The Things We Must Face
by NE1410IS
Summary: Boys trained to play tennis in space and mutants with an insatiable craving for competitive tennis on Earth. Soon the two come together, and Seigaku find themselves involved in a mutant war. AU lots of pairings come check em out
1. Chapter 1 feat SEIGAKU

Seishun Space Station hung in orbit around Earth's moon. It was strange, seeing that planet, once green with life, now completely barren. Not that many of the people onboard the space station could remember Earth before it became the wasteland it was now, of course; only one had actually lived on Earth, though they'd passed the stories of it's surface down to the next generation.

Only ten people remained on the station, which had been their home for their entire lives. And it would be for the rest of their lives, too – there was nowhere left to go. It was hard for everyone, knowing that they were doomed to spend the rest of their lives on this same space shuttle, playing the same tennis, eating the same space food. At times, it was enough to make you want to scream.

But in space, no one could hear you scream. Unless, of course, you were screaming:

"THAT'S MOMO-CHAN'S DUNK SMASH! DON!"

What might have been an impressive smash back on Earth only caused the tennis ball to drift downwards a little, then climb aimlessly back upwards in the zero gravity environment of the space shuttle. Momoshiro looked a little dejected.

"Mada mada dane, Momo-senpai," Echizen Ryoma said, floating a few feet above the court with his hands above his head.

"Echizen!" Momo cried, tossing his racket to the ground in frustration. The racket did not reach the ground and only hung in the air in front of him. "This blows!" Momo shouted once more, finding it difficult to keep his voice down. Seventeen years on board a tiny space shuttle, and only now was cabin fever sitting down. "Not even tennis can take my mind off Ryuzaki-sensei's condition."

Ryoma didn't show any concern, but inside, he did feel as worried as Momo. Deep inside. Deep, deep inside where nobody could ever know. Of course, besides the fact that he was maybe a little fond of Ryuzaki-sensei, there was another reason he worried about the loss of their coach: if there was one person who could keep order amongst a crowd of rowdy tennis players.

"I know," Momo said, grabbing Ryoma by the neck and pulling him upright. It was easy enough in zero gravity, but Momo would have been able to do it on Earth, given his freakish size and strength. "Let's go and pay Ryuzaki-sensei a visit!"

So they made their way to the hospital wing. Upon entering Ryuzaki-sensei's room, the atmosphere was noticably different. Indeed, it was strange enough to see the entire Seishun Space Shuttle tennis club gathered around Ryuzaki-sensei's bedside, but it was even more worrying to see the serious look on each member's face, and the gaunt, pale nature of Ryuzaki-sensei's own.

"Tezuka Buchou," Ryoma said, picking up on the tense air in the room. "What's going on?"

"Echizen," their captain greeted him. He frowned, bowing his head, then said, "I fear the illness is getting worse. He's dillusional-"

"I am not delusional!" Ryuzaki-sensei snapped, and Ryoma was relieved to see that, though he might look frail, he was as vivacious as ever.

Ryuzaki-sensei had been like a father to every boy on the shuttle for as long as any of them could remember. Before the nuclear power plants had exploded on Earth he'd been asked to pick nine babies – nine babies who would grow to be exceptionally skilled at tennis (Ryuzaki-sensei was a tennis coach, so had a certain kind of foresight for these kind of things) – and take them into space, where they would be safe from harm.

Quite why he had been asked to do this was a mystery, but it had been an order that had come directly from the Japanese Prime Minister. For some reason. I'll decide later.

"Listen to me," Ryuzaki-sensei hissed, clearly exasperated. "I'm trying to tell you, I'm a woman-"

"Temperature: 98.6. Perfect," Inui said, removing a thermometre from Ryuzaki-sensei's ear. "The hallucinations aren't accompanied by a fever. How strange."

"I'm not hallucinating!"

"Ryuzaki-sensei," Oishi said, gently, clearly sensing it was his turn to attempt to talk some sense into their deluded coach. "You must be confused – women have been extinct for years. You told us that yourself…"

Ryuzaki-sensei froze, then slumped over, hands covering her eyes.

"I lied," she said, weakly. "I lied because- I thought, if you thought girls had been wiped out… then you'd be able to concentrate on tennis better."

Nobody spoke. Girls were… real? There were real girls out there, somewhere?

"Ryuzaki-sensei," Tezuka said, his voice sounding quiet. "Why would you tell us something like that-"

"I had to," she murmured. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically small, weak, and her eyes slipped closed. "You boys – I've raised you as I would my own children, and over time I've come to think of you as my own family but… my goal was to teach you tennis. That was the mission I was given. I believe – besides the fact that Earth is now an irradiated hell-hole – the Prime Minister wanted you to be removed from it so you could be isolated from society, so you could focus on tennis. And I wanted to ensure there were as little distractions as possible."

Ryoma wondered how he'd never realised that Ryuzaki-sensei was, most definitely, a woman. Really, how had he been so blind? He almost had been blind a few times - Ryuzaki-sensei's sizable chest mounds were quite the hazard in zero gravity. Women hadn't been wiped out but bras had, apparently.

"I've raised you all to be the best tennis players possible," she said, her eyes slipping closed. "I feel like… I can die with no regrets…"

At once, they let out a stream of protests. "No!", or "Don't leave us!", or "Ryuzaki-sensei, you can't mean that!"

Her eyes opened once more. "Well, I have one regret," she said, "My granddaughter. I had to leave her behind to come here with you all – I wish I could have seen how she'd grown up."

They were quiet for a moment. Then Tezuka stood, looking dramatically off into the distance. Really, he was just staring into a wall. That was kind of weird.

"You won't have to wish anymore, sensei," he said, dramatically, "We're going to find your granddaughter… and bring her back here!"

"BUCHOU!" The rest of the team screamed in agreement.

The escape pods lay on the east side of the station. They had been unused for some time and Ryoma had his doubts about whether or not the were safe, but Inui had checked them over and declared them spaceworthy. So Ryoma reluctantly got into a spacesuit, and wondered why on Earth (or not on Earth, as was their current situation) he had agreed to this.

Even if they got to Earth safely, even if they weren't killed by some sort of feral, mutated wildlife, even if, by some freak coincidence, they found Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter… what then? What could they do? They'd be on Earth and Ryuzaki-sensei would be dying alone up here.

"Buchou," Ryoma said, his voice quiet. He didn't want to bring this up in front of the others, the majority of whom were excited about their voyage, but it had been bothering him. Tezuka, infuriatingly, turned away from him to gaze out the window that offered a beautiful view of the galaxy.

"Even if we get to Earth, Ryuzaki-sensei's going to be here," Ryoma said bluntly. His meaning was obvious.

"If Ryuzaki-sensei had objected to us travelling to Earth, she would have said so," he said, hands clasped behind his back. "No – I think that, all along, she knew we would have to leave. She's trained us for a purpose. Telling us about her granddaughter was her way of giving us a reason to go to Earth."

Ryoma wasn't too sure that was true. It seemed that none of this made sense, perhaps because I haven't really thought it through shit idk what's goin on

"Echizen," Tezuka continued, turning to Ryoma. "When we get to Earth, there may be a chance that something will happen to me."

"Tezuka Buchou-"

"Echizen," Tezuka interrupted, "If something is to happen to me – you must become the pillar of Seishun Space Station."

There was a moments silence. Then… "What's a pillar?"

"Ah," Tezuka said, awkwardly. They were on a space station, so of course there were no pillars! Everything was sleek and chromium and pillarless. That had been an unfortunate choice of metaphor. "It's… it's a sort of support structure that… holds things up," Tezuka said, uncertainly. Maybe he should just hope that there would be an opportunity to point one out on Earth. With a sigh, Tezuka picked up his helmet and placed it on his head, "Well, Echizen, let's go. You'll ride with Momoshiro."

Ryoma balked. "B-but I said I wanted to ride in a single pod-"

Tezuka's eyes narrowed.

Real men rode doubles.

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed that! xD What will happen when they get to Earth? only time will tell! READ AND REVIEW PLZ!


	2. Chapter 2 feat SEIGAKU

Ryoma was sulking as he slipped into the escape pod, taking the seat in front of Momo. Really, there wasn't enough room for them in these things – or maybe, there wasn't enough room for Momo, whose freakishly long legs were pressed up against the back of Ryoma's chair.

If Ryoma had known any better, he'd have thought that his senpais heights were strange – but, having never known another normal heighted person besides himself and maybe Ryuzaki-sensei, he'd always assumed it was normal.

Ryoma listened carefully as the countdown to release their pods began. Momo tried to squirt hamburger from a tube into his mouth; it floated limply around the tiny space and then settled on the clear bubble of Ryoma's helmet. Annoyed, Ryoma snapped, "Momo-senpai, put on your helmet."

Momo seemed to be about to protest, but too late – the countdown hit zero, and the pod was released. Well, it wasn't so much released as it was catapulted; Momo flew forward and his head banged against Ryoma's and he thought he could see stars for a second. Then he realised he could see stars. 'Cuz they were in space.

But not for long. The pod was falling at an incredible rate, so that the planet below them was no longer just a distant orb but a fast approaching crash landing. The pod got hot as it entered Earth's atmosphere, and Ryoma felt ready to black out, his eyes screwing closed as the ground became frighteningly close-

Then they crashed. The pod broke open as it made contact with the ground and Ryoma was flung a few dozen feet away from the wreckage and Momo. He struggled to remove his helmet, and then he breathed it in: air. Real air. It was... dustier than he thought it would be.

"M-Momo-senpai," Ryoma gasped, pulling himself along the ground in the direction he thought Momo had been left. But he'd hit his head pretty badly, and he lifted his fingers to wipe away a trail of blood that now trickled down his forehead. And with the heat, the bright, natural light, and the overwhelming pain in his head all weighing on him, he collapsed.

**BUT LATER...**

Ryoma felt sunlight on the back of his eyes and, very slowly, he opened them. He was lying on something... well, not anything comfortable, but at least not bare ground. In addition to this, there was something nuzzled up against his chest, something warm and soft and friendly. He almost cuddled against it before he came to his senses and pushed it away, wakening with a yelp.

"NYAYANANAHAHHHHH," the thing screeched back. It was fairly big – about the length of a tennis racket, not including the long bushy tail that emerged from it, and covered in long, thick fur. It turned to let out another cry (this time more like "NYYYEEERROOOWOWWWOWOWW") and then scampered away.

Ryoma had never seen – or heard – anything like it before in his life.

He winced as he suddenly felt the pain in his head, which had been briefly forgotten with the adrenaline rush that came with encountering such a strange creature. He clutched his head, groaned, and wondered where his hat had gone.

The pain in his head only increased as a dirty laugh echoed around his surroundings.

"Oi, what's wrong, shounen? Never seen a cat before?"

Ryoma narrowed his eyes and looked up. Well, at least this thing was recognisable, even if it was an old man with an unruly beard and half-open robes. The man squated down next to a pathetic looking fire in a pit where he was cooking fish, and prodded his dinner.

"A 'cat'..." Ryoma repeated, hunched forward and still clutching his head, but feeling a little more lucid than before. He'd heard of cats before, but he'd never seen one, and the image he'd built up in his head was nothing like he'd thought it would be.

He frowned, then barked, "Ah! Momo-senpai!"

"Eh?"

"My senpai- should've been near me..." Ryoma said, pushing himself to his feet despite how his body screamed in protest. "He's... Momo..."

"Your senpai's a homo?" The man said, scratching his stomach idly as he watched Ryoma amble about aimlessly. Finally, perhaps deciding that it was becoming slightly pathetic, he stood and pointed something at Ryoma that the boy hadn't realised he'd had.

A tennis racket.

"You play tennis?" The man asked, a smirk playing on his lips. He tossed another racket – god knows where he found it – to Ryoma, and said, "Let's have a match. If you win, I'll help you find your senpai."

Ryoma thought about denying it. Honestly, he did. It was a stupid idea, to play with a head wound like his and all, but... but Ryoma couldn't turn down a challenge. Especially not one that involved tennis. And especially not when they were standing on a makeshift tennis court. How had Ryoma not noticed before?

The match started off slowly. Ryoma won his first couple of serves easily. Really, he thought, this man was terrible at tennis. Truly awful. But then he realised, no – he wasn't bad. He was good. He was _going easy on him_. Ryoma's eyes narrowed as he bounced the ball, then tossed it into the air to serve – the ball crashed onto the other side of the court, spun in the dust, then ricocheted away.

There, Ryoma thought. That'll show him what I'm capable of.

To Ryoma's irritation, the man wasn't even paying attention to his serve. He had his finger in his ear, poking at it, and he only looked up once the ball had bounced a few meters away.

"Heh? What was that, shounen?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're not playing seriously," Ryoma ground out, his teeth grit.

The man laughed. "It's too early in the morning for such serious tennis!" He exlaimed, though Ryoma sensed that it was never the time to be serious for this man.

Ryoma scowled, his cool exterior breaking. He hit another twist serve, but, unexpectedly, it was returned. The man moved so fast, with such ease, that Ryoma was sure he was hallucinating from his injury. But the trail of dust that the ball kicked up as it landed beside him was very real, and he gaped at it.

"40-15, shounen," his opponent said, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Shall we play on?"

The game played by his opponent was no longer lackadaisy and whimsical, but intense. The man could move at some speed for someone of his age, and he set the pace for the rest of the match, which was gruelling. When he took the final point to win the match 6-2, Ryouma collapsed to the ground, panting.

He'd never played tennis like that before. His legs ached. His chest hurt. His head continued to pound.

"Mada mada dana."

He looked up to see the back of the man as he left the court on which they'd been playing.

"Why..." Ryoma whispered, hands clenched until his knuckles turned white and his fingernails bit into the heels of his palms. How had he lost? And to such a childish person? He couldn't do this. He was just going to sit here and have an existential crisis until-

"Oi! Echizen!"

"Momo-senpai!" Ryoma said, looking up. Yes, that was indeed Momo coming towards him, followed by a... a... "What is that thing?" Ryoma asked bluntly, peering to try and make out the being that was trailing behind Momo.

"EeeEEEEeeh?" It screeched. "'What is that thing?'"

"Ne, Horio-kun, calm down," another of it's heads sighed, and the other one nodded vigorously in agreement, it's bowlcut bobbing back and forth as it did so.

What a weirdo, Ryoma thought. It was about the same height as him, but considerably broader to accommodate three heads; the one on the left with an honest face and his head shaved nearly clean, the one in the middle (and by far the most grotesque) with a flappy mouth and a unibrow, and finally, on the right, one with a bowlcut and large eyes. Each one seemed distinct from the others, but they were attached to the same set of shoulders.

The middle head frowned, his monobrow furrowed in annoyance. "I'm Horio-"

"-I'm Katsuo-"

"-I'm Kachiro!"

Ryoma looked to Momo, who only grinned and shrug. "They just trailed along. It's not that bad, right? Besides, they know their way around here. We could use a guide if we're going to find the other," he paused, before staring at what Ryoma held, "Echizen, is that-"

"EEEeEEeeEh, ECHIZEN," Horio cried, reaching out to grab the tennis racket from Ryoma. He held it aloft and gazed at it in wonder. "This is- where did you get this?"

"Someone gave it to me-"

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH?" Horio's eyes looked ready to bulge out his skull. Then he looked to Ryoma seriously and said, "Listen, Echizen, don't let anyone know you've got this. I don't know about where you came from, but here on Earth, tennis is serious business-"

"That's right, Ryoma-kun!" Katsuo urged, "You should just throw that away. If you get challenged to a game, it could be dangerous."

Kachiro didn't say anything, but the earnest look on his face told Ryoma that he agreed.

"Dangerous? Sounds like it could be interesting. Come on, Momo-senpai," Ryoma said, turning to walk away – then swaying unsteadily.

"Echizen, are you alright?" Momo caught him before he hit the ground. His voice reverbrated and echoed around Ryoma's skull, and his vision wavered so it looked like there were three of them. Three Momo-senpais!, Ryoma thought. I must be dreaming. Probably a nightmare.

"We need to get him help," Momo said, hauling Ryoma onto his back and looking to the heads. "Is there anywhere we can take him? He's bleeding."

There seemed to be nowhere to go. They were currently standing on a tennis court, but the remains of a house and temple lay nearby. In fact, all around them, there seemed to be nothing but ruins. The only buildings that still stood were crumbling and looked like they'd been ransacked for anything that might have proved useful years ago.

"Heh, well there's-"

"-no, we can't take him there!"

"They've not been hostile at all lately..."

"That doesn't mean they'll _help_-"

Ryoma felt ready to lose consciousness again. Momo shook him (not at all gently), and said, "Hey, Echizen, don't fall asleep!"

Too late, Ryoma thought, his eyes closing as he rested his head on Momo's shoulder. He felt his senpai shake him again, and heard him shout, "Hey, you three! He could be dying here, you know-"

"We know!" Horio shouted back (although, to be fair, Horio's shouting voice was indeterminable frpm his speaking voice). "We're trying to work something out! We've got years of wasteland experience, you know!"

"So, Horio-kun," Kachiro said, "Do we take them... there...?"

"I guess we don't have any other choice," Katsuo sighed, and the all nodded simultaneously. "Come on, Momoshiro-"

"Call me Momo-chan!" Momo said, relieved they were finally getting somewhere.

"Er," said Katsuo, "No thanks."

**LATER STILL...**

They had been walking for hours. Or maybe it was just minutes. Momo wasn't sure. Living on board a space shuttle, they'd never received much of an education, and his grasp of time was shaky at best. But Echizen was heavier than he looked and he was beginning to get tired.

"Hey, is this place where you're taking us close by?"

"Not long now!" Kachiro answered. They'd taken the lead by a few meters, going ahead because they knew what dangers to look out for. Suddenly they came to a halt though, and Momo stopped too, concerened.

"What's happening...?" He asked, but as soon as the words came out his mouth he saw the figure ahead of them.

"Haven't seen you in a while," the boy ahead of them mumbled, dark eyes fixed on Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro. "Thought we'd scared you off for good. Stupid for a low-level mutant like you to come wandering into our territory when we explicitly told you not to. Maybe we have to teach you another lesson."

"Hey!" Momo shouted, stepping forward. "Stop talking to yourself! Can't you see we need help here?"

The stranger looked up with dark eyes. "And you brought humans here, too. That's like leading them into a death trap. Tachibana won't be happy to hear about this. No, he won't be happy at all-"

"SHUT UP," Momo yelled. "Who the hell are you?"

"'Who the hell are you', he says. My name's Shinji."

"Shinji _what_?"

"Shinji... Ikari."

?

(No this isn't really an Evangelion crossover. That was dumb. What he really said was "Ibu Shinji", but more on that later.)


	3. Chapter 3 feat SEIGAKU and FUDOMINE

Momo hadn't moved from where he stood and neither had Shinji. This wasn't due to fear on either of their parts – Shinji saw now reason to be afraid of the intruder and Momo saw no reason to be scared of a creepy dude who'd shown no action since they'd arrived except mumbling to himself.

I could probably take him, Momo thought bitterly. If only he didn't have Ryoma on his back. Right now, though, he had no choice but to try and bargain with the stranger.

"My friend is hurt, and these three were taking us somewhere to find help," Momo said, nodding to Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro. "Now, if you'll let us past-"

"There's no where past here besides Fudomine territory."

The voice that said that was strange, and a new figure had appeared in a flash. All Momo had seen was a blur as he arrived, and then the blur became a skinny boy with floppy red hair. Stupid red hair, Momo thought.

"What's going on here?" The new boy asked Shinji, arms crossed over his chest. "Who are they?"

"Kamio," Shinji mumbled. "Don't know."

"What, you're just going to let strangers wander onto our turf without checking them? You should've alerted a team mate-"

"Team mate?" Momo murmured, curious. Then he noticed something; strapped over the shoulders of each of them was a bag, vaguely racket-shaped. "You play tennis?"

"What's it to you?" Kamio snapped back abrasively. "I'm sick of this. I am SO not feeling this rhythm. Freeze 'em, Shinji."

"Sure," Shinji murmured. His eyes narrowed and then glowed a pale blue as he mumbled, "Spot."

Momo was about to ask what the hell that was meant to do, but his mouth didn't move. In fact, nothing felt quite ride with his body right now... his legs wobbled, too weak to support his weight, and the arms that helped support Ryoma fell limp and they both tumbled to the ground. He'd hit his chin hard and had landed in a very uncomfortable position, but he found it impossible to move.

"Momoshiro-" someone tried to shout, but the three of them had suffered the same fate as he had.

Shinji stared down at them. "What now? We could dispose of them ourselves, but that would be so much effort. I guess we could just leave them here. Maybe a crow will come along and peck their eyes out, or something."

"Well, you know what Tachibana's like about us just leaving them like this," Kamio said, stretching. "But I don't really want to have to move them ourselves. The big one seems heavy. Let's go get someone to help out."

"Wait."

Kamio's head snapped round to face back to where the pile of bodies had lay. Ryoma had risen.

"Shinji, I thought you'd used your spot on them!"

"Well, that one was unconscious at the time," Shinji excused himself. "I didn't think he'd get back up. It seemed a shame to waste energy putting someone's muscles to sleep when they were already asleep themselves."

"Whatever, just do it _now_-"

"Wait," Ryoma said again. He touched the spot on his head – it was sore, still tender to the touch, but it seemed to have stop bleeding and his vision had cleared. The world had stopped spinning for now, as well. He hefted the racket that he'd been given earlier and pointed it to the redhead. "You play tennis?"

Kamio let out a laugh. "What, this brat thinks he can play tennis? Don't make me laugh."

The last bit was really unnecessary, considering he already did. Ryoma wasn't discouraged, however. His eyes remained as blank as ever as they stayed fixed on Kamio, and he said, "Play a match with me. If we win, you'll let Momo-senpai go."

Kamio seemed amused by this idea. "And if I win?"

"That won't happen."

There was a tense moment. Then Kamio unsheathed his own racket, and slipped one headphone into his ear. "Fine, then. Let's see if you've got the skills."

They made their way to a tennis court (fortunately, there was one nearby: there seemed to tennis courts everywhere, be they real ones or crude, DIY ones fashioned out of rubble and junk). They decided on who should serve first (Ryoma), shook hands (despite being the antagonist, Kamio was still less of a brat about this then Ryoma), then took their places at each side of the court.

Ryoma served. The ball was returned almost instantly, firing past him at an incredible speed, and he blinked.

He'd barely even seen Kamio move. What was up with that? He'd crossed the court in a split second and returned the ball just as quickly.

"15-love," Shinji called out in a monotone.

Surely that had just been a fluke, right...? Ryoma frowned, served the ball again, and- the same happened. The game continued like this, with all of his serves easily returned by Kamio, and when the time came for the other to serve- well, Ryoma barely even saw the blur of the other's arm before the ball landed next to him and bounced away.

"Kuso..." Ryoma breathed.

"What's wrong?" Kamio laughed, removing his headphones temporarily. "Didn't count on this happening, did you? Don't take it too hard. You're only human, after all."

He replaced his headphones, and Ryoma prepared for another serve. He had a plan, but he had to wait until it was his turn to serve again – for now, he'd just have to lay low. If Kamio realised he was up to something, everything would be ruined.

"Game to Kamio. 2-0."

Ryoma breathed deeply, pretending to weigh up his options and decide where to serve to. Then, when he did serve, he aimed it straight at Kamio.

Or rather, right at Kamio's pocket. Ryoma had followed the cord of his headphones to the bulky Walkman that the other carried, and now the ball was speeding towards it. Kamio was apparently caught off guard, since he didn't manage to move in time, and a tennis ball travelling at 180 m.p.h. crashed into his hip with an audible crunch.

Fortunately, it was only the Walkman that had broke, not Kamio's hip. From the way he reacted, though, it might as well have been a bone that had broken; he tore off his headphones at once and wrenched the Walkman from his pocket. It was a bulky thing, but even the toughest of plastic couldn't withstand a serve from Echizen Ryoma; it seemed totally beyond repair.

"You- you bastard!" Kamio screamed, clutching it to his chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you have NO RESPECT for other people's property? Do you KNOW how long it's going to take a "

Ryoma allowed himself a small smirk. "Well, shall we play on?"

"Tsk," Kamio spat, looking ready to kill. "Fine. It's not like I still won't be faster than you, anyway."

Kamio readied himself, and nodded. Ryoma served and he- totally missed the return. Ran straight by the ball and nearly crashed into a wall.

So, he'd been right in taking out his music. Without it, Kamio seemed unable to coordinate his movements properly or control his speed. He was still fast, sure, but his speed was detrimental to his tennis without music to guide him.

From there on in, the game was child's play. Kamio couldn't return any of Ryoma's serves, nor could he control his own to make them difficult for Ryoma to get to. When Shinji called out the final score, the redhead's face was flushed in anger and embarrassment, and he vaulted the net.

Ryoma stepped out of his way easily and he landed on his face.

"Smart," Shinji said, "Attacking your weakness to mess up your rhythm."

"Shut UP, Shinji!" Kamio said, managing to just grab the front of Ryoma's jersey, "I'm gonna kill him-"

Kamio's hands became limp and the material he'd been gripping slipped out from between his fingers. He turned to glare at Shinji. "Shinji, don't use spot on me-"

His eyes widened as he saw Momo and Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro rise, and he turned to his bluenette friend angrily. "What are you DOING?"

"You said we'd unfreeze them if he won," Shinji mumbled, "And he won. The score was 6-2."

"I know it was," Kamio hissed, before sighing. "Fine. You won."

"That's it?" Momo asked suspiciously, stretching. It felt strange to be able to move again. "You're going to let us go just like that?"

"What else can I do? Tennis is law," Kamio lamented. He was clearly not over the death of his Walkman, but he seemed to be accepting it slowly.

Ryoma was about to question what he meant by that when he heard someone call on them.

"Hoooiiii! Kamio! Shinji!"

He looked up to see someone approaching them. A slightly dirty looking tracksuit top, leggings, and a strip of material around their waist – could that be... a skirt? Was that a girl? Whoa, what the hell? She was carrying a bundle of firewood beneath her arm and she placed a hand on her hip as she reached them, lookin sassy.

"What's going on? Who are these guys?" She asked, looking from Kamio to Seigaku's group curiously. Then, in a way that made her sound older than she was and them seem like kids, she said, "Were you playing tennis again?"

Kamio seemed sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, maybe a little-"

"Idiots! Didn't brother tell you not to?" She said, "What did you lose?"

"N-nothing!" Kamio denied the accusation, shaking his head. "Well- we agreed to let them go."

"What team do they belong to?" Ann asked, frowning.

Momo and Ryoma looked to each other. Finally, Momo spoke up. "We're a part of Seishun Space Station's team."

Shinji, Kamio and Ann stared. "Space? You came from space?"

To be fair, there had only been a very slim chance that anyone would buy a story like that, but Ryoma was still a little annoyed when Kamio burst out with, "They're obviously lying! They're probably members of another team come to spy on us. We should take them back to base and have Tetsu interrogate them."

"It doesn't seem likely that they're telling the truth," Shinji offered his input. "But suppose they really came from space? Then again, Japan has never had a space programme... that we know of. Besides that, what purpose would anyone have to send a team of teenagers into space? And how would they get back here?"

"Oh, shut up," Ann said, before looking to Momo and Ryoma. "Okay. Come with us."

No way are we doing that, thought Ryoma. Momo, though, answered, "Sure!"

"Momo-senpai," Ryoma hissed, "What are you _doing_?"

"Well, Echizen," Momo said, a slightly dreamy look in his eyes, "We can't say no to a cute girl if she's asking us on a date."

Ryoma was almost totally positive that this wasn't a date, but he let it slide if only because he didn't feel like arguing with him. He, Momo and Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro were coralled by Kamio and Shinji and Ann led the way. They walked for what felt like minutes (or maybe it was hours, I'm not sure [my grasp of time is also shaky at best]) before finally the reached a building.

It was large. It seemed to be a school: the sign outside it read FUDOMINE MIDDLE SCHOOL, so it probably was a part of a school, actually. They walked along a corridor until they reached a door sealed with a multitude of locks. She knocked on it with a succession of knocks, then waited.

No reply came. Ann huffed, then said, "Brother, let us in! It's us!"

There was silence. Kamio said, "You've got to say the code."

"I'm not saying _that_," Ann argued, crossing her arms over her chest. Nobody said anything, and finally she sighed and conceded. "'Our star of hope, a rebel, Tachibana'. I can't believe you guys chose _that_ as our code."

"It's a good code," Shinji mumbled, and Kamio nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, Ann," came a voice from behind the door, and the clicks of locks being unlocked sounded. "We've had to tighten up security lately." The door opened and a white bandana appeared. Tetsu leant against the doorframe and said, "Who's that you've got with you?"

"I don't know. One of them beat Kamio at tennis, though," she said, worming her way past him. "Figured we'd get them checked out instead of leaving them wandering around. Kamio thinks they're spies. I brought the firewood, by the way."

"Alright," he said, sounding unsure. He opened the door and they were ushered in. "Who did they _say_ they are?"

"Tennis players from space."

Ryoma stepped into the gym hall and looked around. It seemed fairly normal, save for the fact that it was reinforced strongly, each door besides the one they'd come through barricaded. What kind of gym hall needed that sort of defences? There were a few other people mulling about, but the most noticable was a black haired boy who watched him carefully. The mole on his temple seemed somewhat dangerous. Well, as dangerous as a mole could seem.

"Space?" He said, looking over Ryoma and Momo carefully. They definitely didn't seem like they were from space; they'd shed their heavy spacesuits after their abrupt landing, and the white and blue tracksuits they wore, while certainly cleaner than Fudomine's own uniform, didn't seem too extraterrestrial.

Still... was there a chance that these people... could be...?

"Tetsu should check to see if they're telling the truth," he said, before looking to Ryoma, "If that's okay, that is?"

"...Sure," Ryoma said. He wasn't exactly sure what the other had in store, but he couldn't exactly argue.

Tachibana nodded to Tetsu, who nodded to Ryoma, who only stared. Tetsu removed his bandana and took Ryoma's face in his hands – one on each cheek – before closing in. For a moment, Ryoma was sure he was going to be smooched, but instead Tetsu just bumped his forehead against Ryoma's and stayed there.

"What's he doing?" Momo asked, sounding as uncomfortable as Ryoma felt.

"Ishida's a telepath, but not a strong one," Ann supplied helpfully. "He needs skin-to-skin contact to use his power, but he should be able to tell if you're lying about being from space."

"Why would we lie about being from space?" Momo asked, but Ann hushed him.

Ryoma had been unable to protest, mostly because having your mind read felt weird. Like there was a worm wriggling around in your brain and – given that his head already hurt – that was not a particularly pleasant experience. He scowled, closing his eyes to try and pretend he didn't feel it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tetsu released him. "His story checks out. He definitely has genuine memories of living in space."

Everyone except Tachibana seemed surprised. Tachibana simply lowered his head and sighed.

"What does this mean?" Ann finally asked.

"It would seem," Tachibana said, "that they're our enemies."

TBC?


	4. Chapter 4 feat SEIGAKU and FUDOMINE

"Enemies?" Ann repeated.

The air in the room had changed. Perhaps Fudomine hadn't been particularly friendly to them before, but now the mood seemed... hostile.

"Hey," Momo said, oblivious to the atmosphere as usual. "That's hardly fair- you were the ones who attacked us, and besides, we don't know what the hell's going on here-"

"Be quiet," Tachibana snapped, and Momo actually fell silent. Tachibana frowned and closed his eyes and then said, in an expository manner, "I will tell you all I know."

Fourteen years ago, Japan was in peril. An unknown substance had leaked into the water supply – by who, nobody knew. The government claimed that it had been the work of biochemical terrorists, though some conspiracy theorists suggested that it had been made by the government themselves. Never-the-less, the substance was highly radioactive and quickly began to mutate people. And not "shit I'm in radioactive waste I'm going to probably get ill and die soon" mutations, "shit I'm an x-man mutations".

Certain people were more susceptible to the effects of the substance than others. For instance, young boys. For another instance, tennis players. In an attempt to prevent every future male tennis star from becoming mutated and risk having all their best athletes disqualified from competitions for being genetically abnormal freaks of nature, the Prime Minister of Japan ordered that the most promising future tennis stars be rounded up and sent to space before they could be mutated.

However, even though he'd saved the future of competitive tennis, things worsened back on Earth. Mutants faced social stigma and ostracization. What's more, the substance proved to have a far more deadly effect than first anticipated: those who ingested it but didn't mutate died shortly afterwords. Soon, the prime minister was beginning to wish he'd sent more people into space than a few groups of children who may or may not turn out to be good at tennis.

The substance spread. Soon, it didn't just effect Japan, but the entire world. Other nations suffered the same fate and soon Earth was nothing but a barren wasteland. Save for small pockets of mutant society, mankind was obliterated.

"Of course, up until now, I thought that the human survivors were rumours – like those stories you hear about humans that still manage to live in the wastes by themselves."

They were quiet for a long time. Then Ryoma said, "But that doesn't explain why we're enemies."

"I was getting to that."

Shortly before his own death, the prime minister noticed some things. For one, the mutants like tennis. They LOVED tennis. He accurately prophesized that, should they take over the world, then the world would be ruled by tennis. Tennis would be law.

So he sent a signal to the leaders of the tennis space stations, telling them to train the boys vigorously, because one day they would be the ones who would come down from space and defeat the mutants who would steal society from them.

"How do you know all this?" Tetsu asked, slightly awed.

"Old government papers. I did some research before I came to Fudomine," Tachibana said. "But still... that doesn't let us know what to do with them. It's too dangerous to let them go – they know where we live now. You idiots – you should have blindfolded them before bringing them here."

"Sorry, Tachibana..."

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Tachibana said, crossing his arms, "Shinji, you'll take over collecting firewood from Ann for the month. Kamio- I have every mind to postpone your ceremony after this."

Kamio gawped. "T-Tachibana! That's not fair!"

"Tough luck, Kamio," Shinji mumbled. "That punishment sucks. Not that mine isn't pretty bad, too. I mean, all that firewood's heavy, and besides that, what if I get a splinter? That would hurt. Or at least smart a little bit. Of course, then Tachibana might kiss it better, which I guess might be kind of nice. Maybe I'll get a splinter on purpose just so he will..."

Nobody was listening to Shinji anymore. Kamio still seemed terrified at the prospect of losing his "ceremony", and Ryoma and Momo were beginning to wonder what kind of place they'd wandered into. Was this a tennis club or some kind of cult?

"Fine," Tachibana said, "We'll go ahead with it as planned. But you don't get to sleep in the marriage bed for a week."

"Tachibanaaa!"

**LATER**

They waited until Momo and Ryoma were asleep to do it.

Kamio hissed as he slit his wrist, his heart racing a mile a minute. He was the final one to take part in the ceremony. Biting his lip he held it up his hand and Tachibana pushed his wrist to his, their warm blood mingling, becoming as one as their hearts already were.

"Together…forever…" they whispered. Then Tachibana cauterized the wound with a zap from his lasermole.

"I love you, Tachibana-san," Kamio said lovingly, gazing into Tachibana's eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Tachibana said.


	5. Chapter 5 feat YAMABUKI

"Sengoku-senpai, Sengoku-senpai!" Dan Taichi yelled as he ran towards the orangenette. His own dark hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back, wishing desperately that he had some kind of headband or something. Perhaps some twist of fate (or plot) would supply him with one soon. "Big news! Banda-sensei said the pods are prepped! We can finally go to Earth!"

Finally. _Finally_.

Sengoku had been waiting for this day. Banji had told them many stories about Earth and its many delights. Most of these seemed to be a little exaggerated, but if there was one thing Sengoku had 100% faith in and was most looking forward to, it was the girls.

Yes, there were women on Earth, Banji had told them. Yes, they were beautiful, and yes, they were more than ready to date attractive young tennis players when given the chance. So, of course, Sengoku was very excited about getting down there.

He only hoped the rest of his team wouldn't cramp his style. Minami was more concerned with perfecting the fundamentals of tennis than picking up cute girls, and Masami ended up practicing with him more often than not. Toji showed some interest, but he wore _goggles_, so Sengoku wasn't too sure he wanted him around when he was trying to impress the ladies.

Then there was Dan. Girls seemed to be the last thing on Dan's mind, but he was good at humouring Sengoku and good for a confidence boost – as demonstrated when, as Sengoku place his hat upon his orange head, he yelled, "Kyaaa! Sengoku-senpai looks so cool!"

Sengoku allowed himself a self-satisfied smile and looked at himself in the mirror. He'd picked out his favourite checkered shirt and fringed vest especially for today, and his boots had been polished until the spurs sparkled. Yes, even for a space cowboy, he looked exceptionally cool. He holstered his gun, and Dan clutched his notebook to his chest, eyes dreamy.

"Sengoku-senpai, what do you think the people on Earth are like, desu?" He asked. "Banda-sensei says they're really... wild... desu..."

"I guess we'll find out when we get there," Sengoku replied, and Dan nodded furiously.

**LATER**

The trip to Earth commenced more smoothly than Seishun space station's had, but they still found them split up upon arrival. Sengoku came across Dan first, which was fortunate, because Earth was nothing like Banji had promised them. Tokyo was not all fast food places, cute girls and comic book stores at all!

"Is this really Earth...?" Sengoku wondered aloud, looking around their desolate surroundings. "Maybe there's been some mistake... maybe the coordinates were wrong or something..."

"Negative, Sengoku-senpai!" Dan said, holding up a finger. "On board navigation systems confirm that this is indeed Tokyo, Japan, Earth, desu!"

Sengoku was concerned. This did not seem like a good situation to be in at all. Dan, however, didn't seem to share his worries and was particularly excited by a figure he'd spotted on the horizon.

"Look, Sengoku-senpai, that might be Minami-senpai!" he called, pointing to them, before waving and yelling: "Da-da-da-dan! Minami-senpaiiii! Over here!"

"Dan, get _down_," Sengoku hissed, pulling Dan behind a pile of rubble. After a few seconds he lifted his head to peer around their cover. Whoever was there seemed to have turned to face them and was making their way over, but Sengoku was sure they'd managed to hide before they'd been spotted.

"Sengoku-senpai," Dan whispered, eyes wide, "What's happening, desu?"

"That's not Minami. That's not anyone on our team," he hissed back. The person was far too tall, "Didn't you notice how... big... that person was?"

Dan frowned, then peeked over the top of the rubble too. His eyes widened even wider and he said to Sengoku excitedly, "You're right! He's huge!" Sengoku tried to hush him, but Dan continued to talk, his voice gradually getting louder. "He's tall and has muscles! What a great body, desu~!"

"Dan, stop," hissed Sengoku, trying to pull the younger boy down.

"Whoa, he's coming right for us!" Dan cried, resisting, "He looks so strong, desu! We should get him on our team, Sengoku-senpai-desu-da-da-da-"

Dan was cut off as a large portion of the rubble they'd been hiding behind was kicked to the side, and the person they'd been hiding from towered above them. He was wearing tight white jeans and a black tank top. He looks ridiculous, Sengoku thought, straightening up.

"What the hell are you?" The stranger growled, glaring down at them.

Sengoku had never thought he was a cowardly person, but he found himself unable to speak. Dan, on the other hand, found it in him to speak easily.

"We're cowboys, desu!" He piped up, "Who are you?"

The stranger seemed confused by Dan's chipperness in the face of a threat like him. "Whatever," he grunted, "I'll kill you anyway."

**EXPOSITION**

Akutsu Jin had been born eighteen years ago to a mother who hadn't been much older than eighteen herself. From the day he was born he was a Bad Kid – he puked on three nurses on his first day of life, and not because he was sick. Just out of spite. And indeed, as he grew up, he earned the title of Juvenile Delinquent, and lived up to his reputation whenever possible.

He didn't know why he did it. It certainly wasn't fair on his poor mother, considering that she had enough to worry about with the mutating water substance and all that.

On his sixth birthday, doctor's claimed he had been exposed the substance and effected to it, using his growth spurts, short temper and insane strength to back up their claims. In actuality, he wasn't a mutant at all; he was completely human, and just happened to be very tall, very angry, and very strong.

The current procedure at the time for newly diagnosed mutants was instant isolation. Akutsu Yuki, though, was not having that: she'd already fought with her parents to keep her baby. Compared to her mother and father, the Japanese government was small fry! So they fled to the countryside, where they lived in the depths of a forest, and Akutsu slowly began to hone his rapidly increasing strength.

That wasn't to say things were fine: they fought a lot, and Akutsu was constantly going against her orders, but that was expected of any youth, not just big, strong, scary ones.

But then his mother had died a few months ago, and Akutsu had decided, with nothing else left to do, he'd come back to Tokyo and Fuck Things Up. Tales of humans who'd survived what was practically an apocalypse were often told by mutants, but nobody actually believed them. They were just urban legends. Akutsu, however, had become a living legend – and even if the tales of his mutant hunting prowess were a little inaccurate (some claimed he skinned his victims and wore their skins as little suits), they were never exaggerated.

So that brings us to where we left off.

But these people... were not mutants. Half the time mutants were indistinguishable from humans, but there were things you picked up on... and camp cowboy costumes were not one of their defining characteristics. Should he kill them? Now he wasn't sure. It was probably bad to kill a fellow human when there were already so few of you around.

"Who are you?" He hissed, his hand moving to his belt where a knife hung. Not even stealthily. In full view. "Tell me who you are and where you came from, now. And no bullshit."

"This is Sengoku-senpai and I'm Taichi da-da-da-Dan!" Dan said. "We came from space, desu!"

He'd warned them not to give him any bullshit, and yet he'd been given a great big fresh pile of it. He drew his knife, and immediately after he'd done so the redhead drew a gun; he fired off a bullet and Akutsu drew back.

"Owww... desu..."

Now the kid was clutching his arm, and his senpai was gawping at him.

"Shoot! Sorry, Dan- guess I'm not that lucky today-"

"N-no, Sengoku-senpai," Dan managed to say, still somehow sounding cheerful even though his face had drained of colour and he was clutching a sizeable flesh wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "You're always lucky. It must have been me that was unlucky today, desu..."

"It might not be that bad. Let me see it."

Dan removed his hand an immediately blood began to pour out. He swayed, and Sengoku slapped his hand back over it. "Oh man, I'm sorry Dan-"

"Idiot," Akutsu hissed, pulling off the headband he wore and wrapping it around Dan's arm, "Do you want to bleed to death? Hold that there."

"Arigatou, stranger-senpai, desu."

Quite how Akutsu ended up taking both of them back to his home, he still didn't know, but he regretted it almost immediately. Sengoku, having got over the initial shock of meeting Akutsu and then shooting his kouhai, seemed to think they were friends now or something, and Dan was still conscious and blabbering in spite of the fact that he must have lost at least an armful of blood.

Akutsu's home was a hole in the ground. He'd dug it himself, made the door for it himself, and decorated the interior himself. Not that much decorating had been done – he'd strung lights up in the inside, and beyond that nothing was there besides a pile of blankets, a pile of weapons, and some bottled water (non-irradiated water was difficult to find: even this stuff wasn't totally pure, but Akutsu stockpiled the least harmful stuff he could find and hoped for the best).

"Don't touch anything," he ground out as he noticed Sengoku checking out his arsenal. He directed Dan to the pile of blankets on the floor then retrieved a battered first aid box.

"Stop wriggling," Akutsu snapped through clenched teeth, gripping Dan's arm in his hand to steady it. He opened the box to peer into it, then removed antiseptic ointment and a needle and thread.

When he'd splashed the liquid onto the wound and begun to suture it, Sengoku asked, "You're not taking the bullet out?"

"Too dangerous," Akutsu muttered. "For all we know, the bullets what's keeping him from dying of blood loss."

"It's going to be inside me forever?" Dan asked excitedly, his eyes shining. "That's... that's so cool, desu! It'll be like a momento of all of us meeting!"

"Stop moving!"

With the sutures complete Akutsu wrapped his arm in a bandage and sighed, sitting back.

"Now," he said, "Get the hell out of my home."

Sengoku wanted nothing more than to get out of the smelly little hole, but Dan sat where he was, staring at something in his hand. It took Akutsu a moment to realise it was his headband, and he was about to tell him to throw it away, when Dan looked up and said, "Can I... keep this?"

The headband so dirty you could barely even tell it's original colour (green) and that was before it had been covered in Dan's blood. It was stiff with sweat and it stunk. Akutsu stared at Dan, unsure of whether he was joking. Dan seemed to take that as a yes, because he cried, "Yatta! Another momento, desu!" and, much to Akutsu and Sengoku's combined horror, put it on his head.

"Dan, that's not hygienic," Sengoku warned, but it fell on deaf ears: Dan flopped over where he sat and fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6 feat RIKKAI

"Thank you for doing this, Sanada. I'm sorry for being a burden."

Sanada didn't respond as he pushed the wheelchair around the dirt path, taking care to try and do so carefully so as not to jostle the person in it.

"I just wanted to see the sea one last time, before..."

He trailed off, but the end of the sentence was implied. Sanada hated this. Why did Yukimura have to act like he was going to die? He wouldn't. He couldn't, because Sanada had no idea how to look after any of these stupid kids without him.

Instead of replying to Yukimura, Sanada looked down the path, where Kirihara was running ahead of them.

"Akaya," he shouted, his tone urgent, "Don't run, you'll-"

Too late. Kirihara tripped on a rock and fell to his knees. When he let out a wail, Sanada sighed and said, "I tried to warn you."

Kirihara rocked where he sat, a single tear trickling down his cheek. Then that single tear became many tears and he finally stood, hobbling towards Sanada and Yukimura with a look of extreme self-pity on his face. "Yukimura, I... I hurt my leg-"

"Really?" Yukimura said softly, "Let me see then."

Kirihara walked over and swung his leg up so his foot landed across Yukimura's knees. Sanada might have objected, but Yukimura didn't mind. Their captain wiped away the small trickle of blood that oozed from the scrape with the blanket that lay over his lap then said, "There, there. Will I kiss it better? Or are you going to be brave?"

Kirihara steeled himself. He would be brave and strong and try not to let the gaping wound on his knee bother him. Besides, the pain was instantly forgotten when Marui and Jackal tore past, yelling about how he was acting like a baby again.

"I'm not, you bastards!" He screeched, taking off after them, and they disappeared down the path to the beach as Yukimura allowed himself a small smile.

"They'll never learn," Sanada sighed.

"No, they will," Yukimura corrected him. "They'll grow up someday."

"The day can't come soon enough," Sanada grumbled, and Yukimura laughed softly, knowing he didn't mean it.

The wheelchair wouldn't move in the sand so, when they got to the beach, Sanada helped Yukimura up and supported him as they walked down the dune. There he spread out the blanket on the sand and helped Yukimura settle, then sat down next to him.

"They seem to be having fun," Yukimura said, looking to where the other three had ran off to. Jackal and Marui were alternating between holding Kirihara's head under the water and kicking sand in his face.

"They're going to make Akaya mad," Sanada said. "It's all fun and games until someone gets an arm ripped off."

"Well, they'll regenerate soon enough. They're young, let them have fun." Yukimura leant against Sanada, shrugging the jersey he wore off of his shoulders to expose his skin to the warm sun. "You worry too much about them. We used to play just as rough."

_But then you got sick_, Sanada thought. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, though, so instead he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. The sun is making my eyes hurt a little, though."

Without a moments hesitation Sanada tore his cap off his head, shoving it on top of Yukimura's own and tugging the brim down so a shadow fell over his closed eyes. He could still see the smile that curved Yukimura's lips, though, and his captain murmured, "Thank you."

They didn't talk for a long time. Yukimura was no doubt tired from the long journey – they'd had to travel on foot, given the fact that few other forms of transport even existed now – and though he'd been in a wheelchair for the majority of the trip, he'd still been exhausted by it. Still, it had been totally worth it to see his face light up when they spotted the ocean, and sitting here with him like this, just side by side, was nice too.

"We should have brought something to eat," he said, "I could go and forage-"

"Sanada," Yukimura said, "Be quiet."

Sanada obliged and fell silent. The sounds that filled the beach were somewhat lulling, except for the screams of Kirihara that had commenced now that he'd entered devil mode. Sanada thought about intervening but Yukimura, as though sensing what he was thinking, said, "Leave it. He'll tire himself out."

That was the thing about Yukimura: at times it seemed like he had been gifted with some mutant ability, like mind reading or something, but in actuality he was completely human. Maybe it was just because they'd known each other for so long, but the way he always knew what Sanada was thinking was partly touching, partly unnerving.

When they'd first met years ago, nobody could have had any ideas things would turn out like this. Sanada was one of the first members of their tennis club to come down with a mutation, and at that time, Yukimura had been the only one who still played with them. So they stuck together, and when the human race began to die out, Sanada repaid Yukimura's kindness by making sure no one, mutant or human, would ever harm him.

Yukimura didn't mutate, but nor did he fall ill as many other non-mutants normally did. In fact, he was in peak health up until the previous year, when it took a turn for the worse. He'd always been able to keep up with the rest of the team when it came to tennis, providing they didn't use their powers; however, after that day, his movements were sluggish, his responses slow, and he could barely keep hold of the racket.

Thanks to Renji's vast knowledge and healing abilities, they'd managed to keep him alive – but now the illness was beginning to be too much to cope with, even with Renji's skills, and Sanada... he... he wished he had his hat on so he could pull it over his eyes and hide the dark look in them.

"Something's not right," Yukimura said suddenly, and Sanada realised that he was correct: the entire beach had fell silent. Even Kirihara, who'd previously been trying to beat Marui over the head with his own arm, had halted and looked up. Yukimura shivered and clutched the jacket around his shoulder closer to him.

"It's cold," Sanada said, his breath appearing before him as a fine mist. "Could it be...?"


	7. Chapter 7 feat RIKKAI and HYOTEI

"Sanada," Yukimura said, quietly, "Gather the others. It's _them_."

Sanada knew very well who _they_ were. The ones who's arrival was accompanied by a sudden chill, who froze things with a cool look and touch and who chilled the bravest of men to the bone. Hyotei. Hyotei. The ice emperor.

The ocean froze over and then they appeared, skating over the thick ice that had covered the sea. One of them, clearly the leader, skiied off the frozen peak of a wave and landed, arms outstretched. He wore a pure white suit, a striped scarf tossed around his neck. The captain of Hyotei, Atobe Keigo: He's Mr Icicle, he's Mr Ten Below. Everything he touched turns to ice in his clutch.

"He's too much," Sanada whispered to Yukimura.

"Too much!" Atobe agreed, posing with a hand over his face.

Sanada didn't say anything. Too more members of Hyotei – the big one, and the blue haired one with the breathy voice – appeared beside Atobe, and he was wary of what they might do. Mutant society had largely formed around tennis clubs. The leaders were the captains, and their word was law. If you were in a club, you obeyed your captain: with that in mind, he looked to Yukimura for some sign of what to do, but the other was simply looking at Atobe. With no signal to act, he remained still.

"Yukimura," Atobe purred, flipping some silvery hair out of his eyes, "It's been a while. ICE to see you again."

"You too, Atobe," Yukimura said, even though it was perfectly clear that neither of them meant it.

Rivalry between tennis clubs was high even when the relations between them were amiable. When tensions were high between them, however, that rivalry could become deadly. Hyotei and Rikkai had always had a begrudging acceptance of one another, and they gave each other space, so why was Hyotei here now? Couldn't they just leave them alone?

"Knowing how you manage to stay totally ignorant of current affairs due to your unhealthy devotion to your human mascot, Sanada," Atobe said, managing to infuriate Sanada with next to no effort, "Oresama thought we'd better come here and let you know that there's been a fair few humans spotted around these parts."

"Why would I care?"

"Well, you've already taken a liking to picking up stray mutants from the wastes and adding them to your club," Atobe smirked, "A few humans might make a cute addition to your little family."

"Atobe-" Sanada growled, but Yukimura raised a hand and he quietened down immediately.

"Seems one of them is half-decent. He beat Kamio of Fudomine," Atobe said, then, with a laugh: "Of course, Fudomine is weak. If oresama had fought with him, the human wouldn't even had survived our match. Speaking of which, when will you be well enough for another game, Yukimura?"

"ATOBEEE!" Sanada snarled, unsheathing the sword that hung at his hip. He lurched forward and raised it above his head, but he barely got to swing it before Kabaji had stepped forward and grabbed the gleaming length of it. It must have dug into his palm, but he didn't let go.

Atobe only smirked at Sanada's failed attempt at murder.

"Really, Sanada, that isn't going to work on someone like oresama," he said, "You have to try harder if you're going to hurt _me_. Ne, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

Sanada grit his teeth and pushed forward on the sword. It was a case of his strength versus Kabaji's, and ordinarily, Kabaji would win. But Sanada was mad, and determined, and very slowly he felt his sword's blade push through bone and then he stumbled forward slightly as it sliced through the hand that held it. The top half of a palm and four fingers fell to the ground and twitched pathetically.

Atobe's nose wrinkled in disgust as Kabaji stared cluelessly at his hand, which spurted blood. As Kabaji turned to Atobe that expression turned to horror as blood landed on his pure white suit, and then his expression turned to anger.

"Sanada," he said, his voice low. "I could forgive you hurting Kabaji, but this-" he gestured to the stain on his suit, "-_this_ is unforgivable."

He snapped his fingers. "We're leaving. Come, Kabaji. Oshitari."

They turned, perhaps to skate away on the ice again, but before doing so Atobe turned and... blew a kiss.

"NO!" Sanada yelled, his voice rough and loud and panicked. He wanted to move, to get in the way of that air kiss, but he was too slow: in barely a second Yukimura had frozen, his entire body covered in a thin but impenetrable, unbreakable sheet of ice.

"YUKIMURAAAAAAAA," Sanada cried, wrapping his arms around the other's frozen form. Then the beach fell deathly silent; the only thing that could be heard was Atobe's cruel laugh as he spelt out "Sayonara, suckers" in the ice with his skates before leaving.

**LATER**

It wasn't healthy, Sanada knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to rid himself of Yukimura's frozen form. The ice sculpture was as good as a corpse, considering there was no known way to unfreeze Atobe's ice kiss, but still – what was he to do? He couldn't just abandon all hope. There had to be a way to reverse this.

Of course he couldn't give up!

So he moved Yukimura into the bedroom of the abandoned beach house where they'd set up camp, and called Renji in to check on him. Renji's inspection confirmed his worst fears.

"There's nothing you can do, Sanada," he said, shaking his head. "The only thing I can suggest-"

"WHAT?" Sanada cried, grabbing the front of Renji's shirt and shaking him, "What is it?"

"Bury him," Renji said, not even opening his eyes. "Make your peace. Accept it. How do the others feel about you doing this? If Yukimura had died any other way, you wouldn't have dragged his body home and propped him up at the dinner table-"

There was a smack and Renji reeled back and clutched his cheek. Sanada was renowned for his slap, mostly because his right hand had mutated to twice the normal size for optimum slapping power.

"Sanada..."

"Don't talk about him like he's dead," he hissed, his eyes darker than Renji had ever seen them, "Don't talk about him like he's not here! Get out!"

"Sanada-"

"I said get _out_!"

Renji obeyed and Sanada slammed the door behind him, hauling a dresser in front of it to barricade it. Then he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding, and he felt his anger turn to shame. How could he have yelled like that? How could he have slapped Renji like that? And in front of Yukimura, too!

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, forcing a smile. It probably came out as something closer to a grimace. He stepped forward and – rather boldly – put his hands on Yukimura's shoulders. His skin stung in contact with the ice, but he forced himself to keep them there. "It's alright. I won't stop until you're unfrozen. I won't rest until you're cured.

"Because..." he said, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Because you're my... captain."

**BUT**

Though he'd vowed to save Yukimura, the days that followed were ruled by inactivity. What if he left and Renji came and took him away from him? What if he left and Hyotei returned to finish the fight they'd started? He couldn't afford to make any more mistakes. He had to stay here.

Besides, Yukimura needed him. Sanada was sure he could see a glimmer of life behind frozen eyes, and he wasn't going to give up on it. A glimmer of life was a glimmer of hope.

But eventually he had to leave him. Not to go far – he had to go to the kitchen to eat, having not eaten in a few days. He made his way downstairs. There was a sad looking lump of bread in the oven and coffee that must have been scavenged from somewhere.

He was boiling water on the stove when he heard the door behind him creak. Not wanting to face Jackal or Marui or Kirihara, he didn't turn.

"Sanada."

The voice that called out his name was quiet and gentle and made his chest ache. He hardly wanted to believe that it was real, and yet when he turned he saw Yukimura standing there, smiling at him.

"Yukimura," he breathed, "It's... It's you... but how?"

Yukimura didn't say anything. He cocked his head to the side and smiled, eyes half closed, and Sanada stepped closer.

"Excuse me."

He'd never touched Yukimura easily. Even when their relationship had strayed away from being _just _team mates, when Yukimura had stopped being _just _his captain, he'd never been the first to initiate contact. Yukimura was too precious to touch so casually. But now he caught Yukimura's hands in his own, if only because he wanted to know that he was really there, that he wasn't dreaming.

His hands closed over slender fingers and cool skin and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yukimura, I'm so- so glad-"

He felt himself choke up and he closed his eyes, blinking back tears.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Sanada," Yukimura replied and then, unable to stop himself, he added, "Puri~"

Sanada's eyes opened, and he released Yukimura's hands.

"'Puri~'?"

Yukimura looked sheepish.

"Niou," Sanada seethed, "I am going to strangle you with my bare hands..."

Niou easily avoided the others outstretched hands and raised his own hand to touch at his hairline, before his nails dug into the skin and peeled back the second skin he'd grown to act as his Yukimura mask.

"Why the hell are you here?" Sanada growled, not at all discreetly looking around for something to swing at Niou.

"I'm here," the silvernette said, peeling off the rest of the disguise. Seperated from his body it lay on the floor, like putty, "Because I heard you'd gone crazy in your room and wouldn't leave it."

Sanada glared.

"Those are Marui's words, not mine," Niou shrugged. "But they seem accurate. What are you _doing_, Sanada?"

For the first time, Sanada felt a little guilty. He ran his hand over his chin, feeling his stubble, then said: "That is... Yukimura's still alive..."

"He's not," Niou said.

"Even if he's not," Sanada hissed, "I can't just let go."

"You need to."

"You don't know what he MEANT to me!" Sanada howled suddenly, palms pressed to his eyes. When he took them away they were red and damp with tears (his eyes, not his palms), and he was almost hysterical as he continued, "He was MORE than just a captain to me! You don't UNDERSTAND-"

**SMACK**

Sanada's hand came to his cheek. Niou's slap didn't hurt in the way his own did, but it still stung, and he gawped at Niou.

"Yukimura meant a lot of things to all of us," he said bluntly, "and I don't think he was _just a captain_ to any of us."

They were silent for a long time, then Sanada said. "Give me an hour."

"Hm?"

"An hour," he repeated, sounding more sure of himself this time, "Then gather the others and tell them we're going home."

**AND SO**

Sanada made his way back to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Yukimura for a long time. Unmoving as he was, he was still beautiful, and Sanada found himself thinking about his lips.

"Excuse me, Yukimura," he said, standing and then pressing his lips to Yukimura's. They were cold, unyielding. They were not Yukimura's lips.

But this was not Yukimura, he thought, realisation dawning on him. This was a sculpture, and though it may have looked like Yukimura, it wasn't him. It was an impostor. A crude imitations. A cruel joke.

"Forgive me, Yukimura," he said, retrieving his sword. He unsheathed it and desperately tried not to think about how he hadn't fulfilled any of his promises to his captain.

He raised the sword, then brought it down in one clean, vertical slice. Then it was over. Split down the middle, the two halves of Yukimura fell in opposite directions. Frozen organs did not bleed but instead started to melt. Yukimura's corpse turned to water and seeped into the off-white carpet.

"Goodbye, Yukimura," Sanada murmured, taking off his cap and holding it to his chest. He sheathed his sword and cried, this time without trying to stifle his tears. They rolled down his cheeks and dribbled off his chin and feel to land where Yukimura had been.

But perhaps not all of Yukimura had been lost: a tiny splinter of ice had become lodged in Sanada's heart, and he suddenly felt very cold.

**MEANWHILE**

Yagyuu gripped both sides of his face and peeled his Niou skin off, wiping his glasses. They sure got steamy under all those layers of skin. But he was getting better at his Niou disguise, at least! Now, to get Marui, Jackal and Kirihara-kun, and return to Rikkai Gakuen.


	8. Chapter 8 feat YAMABUKI and HIGA CHUU

"Lucky~"

Sengoku's voice rang out over the wasteland as yet another can was hit by one of his bullets and toppled off the wall it sat on. Dan was in absolute awe, clutching at his chest as he watched his senpai practice his aim. Akutsu was less impressed.

"What, you can hit a can from two hundred yards but you can't hit me at two without injuring your underclassman?" He growled, lighting a cigarette. He didn't like being out in the open like this, with Sengoku yelling and shooting and just in general drawing attention to himself. Hell, if it had just been him, Akutsu wouldn't have bothered following him to make sure he wasn't getting himself killed – but Dan was with him, and it wasn't fair for him to get murdered just because Sengoku couldn't keep quiet for two seconds.

"Sengoku-senpai is the sharpest shooter on our team, Akutsu-senpai," Dan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yesterday was just a fluke. It wouldn't happen if he tried again, desu!"

That sounded like a challenge to Akutsu, but even in the short time he'd known Dan, he'd learned that most of the things he said were entirely innocent. Even Sengoku didn't see any malicious intent in it, and Akutsu thought he was too thick-headed to pass up an excuse to shoot at something. And he hadn't passed up any excuses to shoot at anything so far: besides the cans on the wall, he'd shot a tree, a rock, a raindrop (which he was especially proud of), and attempted to shoot a bird, but it managed to fly out of the way.

It seemed like Sengoku was an expert at shooting stationary objects, it was just when they started moving that he had issues.

"You shouldn't waste your bullets, anyway," Akutsu said, leaning against a wall. "You never know when you might need them."

Sengoku sighed, and holstered his gun.

"You're no fun," he frowned.

They were quiet for a while. Sengoku seemed to be deciding what he wanted to do. Dan had taken his hat off and was fidgeting with it; he still wore the headband Akutsu had given him (read: that Dan had taken), but most of the time the fetid thing was concealed under the hat. Now Dan was looking from the hat in his hands to Akutsu's head contemplatively.

"Akutsu-senpai," he finally said, "Since you gave me your headband, you should have my hat!"

"What? No, I don't want that-"

There was no way he was going to wear that hat. Dan looked dejected and he held up his hands and said, "It's probably way too small, anyway-"

"Not a problem, desu!" Dan replied, "It's too big for me, so you're as well taking it! Come on, Akutsu-senpai!"

"I said NO-"

"Just wear it, desu!"

"Don't tell me what to-"

He stopped struggling momentarily and Dan took his moment of stillness to plonk the hat on his head. Akutsu, without thinking, adjusted the hat.

He had heard something there. Something very… bad… a long, deep drone, the sound of a horn: in the distance, but drawing closer.

"Uwah! Akutsu-senpai, it looks great on you!" Dan exclaimed, clutching his hands to his chest.

"Taichi," Akutsu hissed, "Shut up."

Dan quietened and Akutsu listened, waiting for the sound again. Even Sengoku had stopped shooting and now watched him inquisitively. A few moments passed and there was silence. Maybe it had been his imagination. Maybe they were safe-

No, there it was again. And this time he could be sure he hadn't imagined it, because Sengoku asked, "What's that noise?"

"Viking horn," Akutsu said, before looking to Sengoku. He was rapidly trying to work out how to get back to base safely – the sound had come in that direction, but if they strayed any further in an attempt to avoid meeting them, they might get too far away to make it back safely. "They're coming. We have to move."

"Who's coming, desu? Your friends?"

"Does this guy seem like the kind to have friends?" Sengoku laughed, ignoring the glare that followed. But then he frowned, squinting and gazing out across the wasteland; Akutsu followed his gaze and found himself looking at the same thing. A shape surrounded by a cloud of dust that was rapidly coming their way. "What's that?"

As it came closer, it became more obvious what it was; it was a ship that glided through the dirt as easily as it might have sailed through water. More specifically, it was a Viking longboat, and at its helm stood a man dressed in what could only be described as pirate clothes. Lux, incredibly campy pirate clothes, perhaps – each of his garments seemed to be made of either silk or velvet – but pirate clothes none-the-less.

"Too late," Akutsu hissed through clenched teeth. "Well, we should be safe as long as we stay on the grou- Taichi, get back!"

Dan had bounded up to the ship, which had ground to a halt around ten feet away from them. Now he hovered around the helm, gazing up at it in awe.

"Wow, desu!" He cried, scribbling in his notebook, "Is that a real ship? How does it sail through the ground? Are you pirates, desu? Why do you have a Viking horn if you're pirates, desu?"

Akutsu might have made a move, but to his surprise, Sengoku moved first, pointing the gun at the good ship Higa Chuu's captain. Dan was momentarily shaken, and he balled his hands up into fists and yelled, "Sengoku-senpai, what are you doing? Don't point that thing at people, desu!"

"Don't you remember the very first lesson Banji ever taught us, Dan?" Sengoku asked, still keeping the gun trained on the ship's captain. Banji had taught them a lot of things, told them a lot of things that hadn't been quite true (and Sengoku was still bitter about the lack of cute girls on Earth), but if there was one thing he was sure they hadn't been lied to about, it was _this_. "What's a cowboy's sworn enemy?"

Dan paused for a moment, then said, "Ah, pirates desu!"

"Exactly," Sengoku said.

Kite looked up. He'd been examining his fingernails, which were kept well manicured for a pirate. Or a Viking. Whichever he happened to be.

"What are you doing here?" Akutsu barked finally, stepping forward and dragging Dan away from the ship by the collar, "Isn't it about time you went back to where you came from?"

"Calm down," Kite said, sounding bored. "We're going back. Isn't that enough for you?"

That hadn't been the answer Akutsu had expected. Higa Chuu were ruthless and pillaged and killed with little remorse. Other teams had some kind of honour, or at least a little self-restraint; Higa had nothing of the sort. Akutsu had heard that this was due to the influence of their coach, but in his opinion, they were rotten on their own.

When he didn't offer an answer, Kite went on, "Haven't you heard? I suppose not. Rikkai's declared something of a war on Hyotei."

Akutsu took a moment to digest the information. A war? Petty fights between teams were one thing. They just happened, mostly over territory or supplies. But a war suggested something more calculated, something more dangerous, and he wasn't sure how they could avoid getting involved. Neither team's were particularly friendly towards humans; though Rikkai did have a human captain-

"You're thinking about who you'll side with, aren't you?" Kite asked. A parrot swooped down and landed on his shoulder. "I'd forget it, if I were you. You're not welcome in Okinawa, but maybe the idiots in Osaka will take you in. In either case, I'd get out of Tokyo."

"What's with this buddy-buddy atmosphere?" Akutsu snapped, "Shouldn't you be trying to kill us right now, or something?"

"No point," Kite drawled. "If things really go to hell around here, you'll be dead in a week."

Akutsu stared at Kite. Kite stared back. Sengoku didn't holster his gun. Dan cried, "Akutsu-senpai, Sengoku-senpai! I can hear the ocean!"

"Taichi, get down from there!" Akutsu shouted once he'd located Dan. He'd somehow managed to get up into the boat and had pressed his ear against Tanichi's stomach. Tanichi didn't seem to notice. Tanichi is fat.

Kai had noticed though, and came forward swinging his sword, which Dan somehow avoided. Both toppled over the side of the ship and landed in the dirt with a thud. Or at least, Dan did. Kai floundered, sinking into the ground as though it was quicksand – or water.

"You idiot," Kite sighed, and only once Kai had managed to pull himself back onto the ship and lay there covered in dust and panting did he raise his sword, point it to the horizon and say, "Well then: onward."

Kai, having recovered his breath, blew his horn and the ship pushed off again, each member save for Kite taking an oar to push it through the ground. Kite was the captain. He didn't row.

Only now did Akutsu relax somewhat, and Sengoku lowered his gun. Dan didn't seem to realise what had happened at all. But what Kite had said still weighed on Akutsu's mind.

War. Hyotei and Rikkai. Kite had mentioned picking a side, but when you were a human, becoming a team's ally was not an option. He had to learn how to defend himself… and not with weapons, not with knives and steel pipes and planks with nails sticking out of the end. He had to learn how to defend himself properly.

"Hey," he said, looking to Sengoku. "You play tennis?"


	9. Chapter 9 INTERMISSION feat SEIFUDOMINE

"We have to get out of here soon," Ryoma hissed. Momo nodded his head in agreement.

It wasn't that Fudomine weren't gracious hosts – once Tachibana had decided Ryoma and Momo weren't a threat, they'd become fairly amiable. But they were… strange. Seigaku knew all about team spirit and comradery, but Fudomine, in Ryoma's honest opinion, took their devotion to their captain a little too far.

Well, maybe that's just how they did it here on Earth. So long as Tezuka never expected him to feed him and give him backrubs, as Fudomine were doing for Tachibana right now, they could do whatever they want.

Now his thoughts had wandered back to Tezuka, and he wondered where he'd gone… and more importantly, how they could possibly find him. Or the rest of the team. Earth was a big place, and they could have landed anywhere. And weren't they supposed to be finding Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter? Wasn't that the ENTIRE PLOT of this thing?

He was busy thinking about how they'd find them when Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro burst into the room, panting noisily. They were clearly out of breath, and seemed to have run all the way back from wherever they'd been.

"Tachibana-san, R-Rikkai-" Kachiro began, but Horio interrupted him with, "HeeeEEEEeeeeEEeeEHHH Echizen! Big news!"

Tachibana looked up from the Swedish massage he was receiving with narrowed eyes. "Rikkai?"

Rikkai were a fearsome team, renowned in Tokyo for their extraordinary skill and passion for tennis. They were on a whole different level than most of the players in Japan, if not on Earth. But they were always perplexing: not only did they have a human as their captain, they had a sickly human, and all of them were totally devoted to him. It is a mystery.

"What about Rikkai?" Tachibana prompted once more.

The Ichinen trio gave him a tag-team response. "Hyotei attacked them-" "Hyotei's Atobe froze Rikkai's Yukimura!" "WAR!" Horio finally screamed, and Kachiro and Katsuo covered their ears as best they could. "Rikkai declared WAR on HYOTEI!"

Tachibana stood, the towel that had been concealing him during his massage slipping off. The entirety of Fudomine swooned, but they were re-serioused when Tachibana squeezed his mole in thought and said, "This is serious."

Tachibana paused to chew thoughtfully on the grape Tatsunori and Uchimora (YEAH I REMEMBERED THEM OK I BET YOU DON't… ...) had collaboratively placed in his mouth.

"Rikkai and Hyoutei are both strong teams," Tachibana mused, "It would be stupid to get caught up in their business."

"But there might not be a way to avoid becoming involved," Shinji mumbled. "Hyotei will probably make it into a stupidly big deal. And Rikkai probably won't let go of them killing their captain that easily. I mean, I wouldn't let it go easily if someone killed Tachibana-san. But that's beside the point. Rikkai are probably pretty mad right now. If we could-"

Momo and Ryoma stood simultaneously. Both had had quite enough of Shinji's mumbling by now.

Tachibana looked at them curiously. "Where are you going?"

"We need to find our team mates," Momo said, stepping towards the door. Ryoma followed, but Tachibana called out to them and they stopped, half turning to face them.

"It's a warzone out there," Tachibana warned, his eyes narrowed. "Know this: if you get caught up in something out there, we can't help you. If you walk out that door then you're on your own."

Ryoma stared back. Then he shrugged, and they continued to leave.

"Mada mada WHATEVER…"


	10. Chapter 10 feat SEIGAKU and SHITENHOUJI

Oishi was unsure of where they'd landed. The screen that was meant to display their location in the pod had went blank when their pod had came to an abrupt stop via crashing into a tree, and their surroundings didn't give them any clues as to where they were. All around them was thick, dense foliage.

Oishi was a little confused. Wasn't Earth meant to be a barren wasteland? But where they'd landed was very definitely green. While he was caught up in wondering why exactly they had ended up in a forest, Eiji seemed unconcerned: he was swinging from tree to tree from the vines that hung from the canopy, having the time of his life.

"Eiji!" Oishi shouted, watching as the acrobatic player only just made a tricky jump, "Stop fooling around! We have to find the others!"

"Don't be so boring, Oishi," Eiji pouted. Oishi only gaped as he laughed and swung from a branch, sticking his tongue out. "This is way more fun than the space station! We should hang out here for a while before we go and find the others."

"We don't have time for that!" Oishi admonished, "We have to find the rest of the team, and then we have to find Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter! Then we have to find a way to get back to the stati- urk!"

Oishi was cut off mid-sentence as he stepped out into the clearing, felt something tighten around his ankle and then was yanked suddenly upwards. His blood rushed to his head as he swung from side to side like a pendulum, and a bell, presumably tied to the end of whatever rope had ensnared him, tinkled in the distance.

They were both stunned into silence, but Eiji broke it first, laughing loudly.

"Oishi! You got caught in someone's trap!" He exclaimed, hopping over to the branch where the rope was attached. "Hold on, I'll get you down, nya!"

"Eiji, no-"

Too late. With the knot undone Oishi fell to the ground, wincing as he hit it. To be fair, his fall was somewhat cushioned by the leaves that littered the ground, but even so, it hurt. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He could still hear Eiji laughing overhead.

"It's not funny," he muttered, although the blow to his pride had hurt more than the actual fall had. "Anyway, as I was saying, we need to-"

He was cut off again, this time by a scream that echoed throughout the forest and caused the ground they stood on to quake. Even Eiji stopped laughing, looking around in confusion.

"What was that?" Eiji asked, still trying to sound cheerful even though some fear had crept into his voice.

They paused and waited and heard nothing more. Eiji laughed nervously. "W-well, it's gone now, right? See, listen, it's quiet."

No, it wasn't quiet, Oishi thought. It was something different. It was silent, the sounds of birds and cicadas and the forest around them halted suddenly by that one deafening roar. Oishi swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"I think I'll climb a tree too," he said. Maybe that would be a good idea. He'd be safer, he thought – he'd be hidden amongst the leaves, and nothing on the ground that couldn't climb could get him.

The theory that trees equalled safety was quickly disproven when something tore into the clearing, a whirlwind of red that barely stopped moving long enough to uproot the tree Eiji was perched in and tear it from the ground with little more obvious effort than a slight grunt.

"W-what the-" Eiji barely managed to leap down onto the ground from where he stood before the tree was hurled in the opposite direction, tearing down parts of the forest as it flew.

With a dozen trees felled, the boy who had desecrated precious parts of woodland turned to them and managed to pant, "Eh? Pretty good."

"It's just a kid," Eiji murmured, though Oishi noticed that he did stick strangely close by, hovering behind him. Oishi wasn't sure how comfortable he was with being used as a human shield.

"Heh? Just a kid?" The kid said, flexing non-existant muscles and circling them. Eiji clung to Oishi's sleeve and Oishi couldn't help thinking how indecent Earth people were, seeing that this new arrival wore little more than a leopard print loincloth. "Don't get cocky just because you managed to dodge that attack, you trespasser!"

"W-well, if we're not meant to be here, then we'll leave-" Oishi began. The redhead snorted.

"It's too late for me to just let you go!" Redhead snapped, crossing his arms across his chest and looking pointedly at the rope that was still secured around Oishi's ankle. "You ruined my trap! Now what am I going to eat for dinner, eh?"

"Sorry," Oishi apologised quickly. His eyes widened when Kintarou picked up a basketball sized rock, tossing it as though it weighed nothing. Considering that there was a boulder the size of a Mini next to it, Oishi supposed things could have been worse. Still, he held up his hands, his palms clammy with sweat, which shone like crystal. "Hey, come on- let's not do anything hasty-"

"I don't know what that word means," Kintarou said, bluntly, "I'm going to kill you now."

Time seemed to slow down. Oishi saw the rock come towards him, making a beeline for his head. His eyes closed instinctively as it was about to connect with his face. Then he felt Eiji roughly shove him to the ground and blinked and looked up to see his doubles partner backflip out of harm's way.

"Eiji! Good job!" Oishi said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I guess that's why they call us Seigaku's golden pai-"

The Mini boulder crushed him against the forest floor before he could finish his sentence.

When he regained consciousness his head was heavy, his vision was blurry, and he was aware of a coppery tang in his mouth as blood trickled from a sizable head wound to meet his lips. His hands were bound painfully behind his back, and when he looked down his feet hung around six feet off the ground, where wood was stacked up against the stake he was tied to.

How did it come to this? He'd only wanted to make Ryuzaki-sensei happy by finding her granddaughter. And now he was going to die, burnt to a crisp by some crazy jungle kid. Funny, how things worked out sometime.

He heard a "psst!", but he couldn't muster the energy to look up. It was only after he heard a few more "pssts!" that he finally forced his chin upwards, his gaze wavering as he gazed into the trees that lay ahead of him. He didn't see anyone at first, but then he glimpsed something moving within the undergrowth and caught Eiji's eyes.

The look on Eiji's face clearly read 'u ok'.

"Eiji," Oishi breathed, about to call out – but he stopped when Eiji briskly held a finger to his own lips, nodding to his right. Oishi followed his gaze and realised Kintarou was no less than ten feet away, returning with a bundle of firewood in the form of small logs, which he began to stack against the already sizable pile of kindling.

Oishi looked back to Eiji, trying to convey with his expression the sentence 'get me out of here'.

'I'm thinking', Eiji faced back, a frown tugging on his lips. Then, with a little more effort, he managed to convey the words, 'If I distract him, will you be able to get free?'

Oishi shifted as subtly as he could, testing the knot that held his hands together. Trying not to panic, he looked back to EIji. 'No good, I'm tied tight. Do you think you could-'

"What are you staring at?" Kintarou frowned, looking up to him. Oishi felt his heart skip a beat as he looked back to the forest, but he relaxed slightly when he looked back up and saw that Eiji was gone. Kintarou stared into the trees for longer, clearly suspicious, but finally he gave up, apparently not seeing anything.

"Your friend is pretty fast, huh?" He said, tossing the last of the logs onto the front and sitting on it, hand in his chin, "I chased him for at least an hour, but I lost him when the sun began to set. I almost had him at one point, too."

Oishi hadn't even noticed that night had fallen, but it had. A fire burnt in the middle of what seemed to be a makeshift camp, fortunately nowhere near his pyre, illuminating their surroundings. Not that there was much to illuminate: a few tents lay on the outskirts, some loincloths dried from an unsteady looking clothesline, and a spit roasted some unidentifiable meat over yet another fire. Oishi was beginning to suspect that Kintarou just liked lighting fires.

"Your hair is weird," Kintarou said. Oishi didn't want to point out that Kintarou's hair wasn't much better, considering that it looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks and had several twigs and a dead mouse entangled in the red tresses.

He didn't want to speak, but Kintarou seemed to be getting bored, and Oishi got a feeling that that wouldn't bode well for him. Searching for something to talk about, he said, "Who are you?"

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

"You're going to do that anyway," Oishi pointed out.

Kintarou frowned, as though Oishi's logic had totally negated everything he'd ever believed in.

"Well, fine then," he said finally. "If you have to know, I'm the captain of this team!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes. No. Well, while the senpais are away, I am."

Oishi wondered who on earth had thought it was a good idea to leave Kintarou in charge. Then again, if this was what the kouhai here were like, the senpais might be even more nightmarish…

"Who are you?" Kintarou asked, his tone accusing.

"Oishi Syuuichirou," he managed to answer in spite of the growing pounding in his head and despite the fact that Kintarou hadn't even answered his question properly. "Vice captain of the Seishun Space Station Tennis Club."

"You play tennis?"

Kintarou seemed genuinely curious, his voice suddenly void of hostility. "Even though you're a human? You can't be very good! But if you're the vice captain then you have to be kinda okay, right? You should play a match with me!"

"Can't," Oishi replied weakly. When Kintarou's eyes darkened once more, he quickly added, "Because I play doubles. I'm not as good at singles."

"Doubles?" Kintarou repeated. Then, sudden realisation dawning on him, he said, "Oh. Oh. So you're like Koharu-senpai and Yuuji-senpai. Was that guy with you your partner?"

Oishi nodded, before he became to exhausted to raise his head any longer and he groaned and looked down, his chin resting on his chest. Kintarou was now giving him a knowing look.

"I see," he said, "In that case, then, I'll put off killing you 'til I can catch your partner. You should be able to say goodbye to each other before I get rid of you both."

"Kintarou-kun!" Now a voice broke through the air, followed by a laugh. "What's all this talk about killing? We leave our freshman alone for a few days and you turn into a savage!"

"Koharu-senpai!"

Oishi still didn't look up. It was a pity he didn't; Koharu entered the camp's clearing in an appropriately slapstick fashion, with Koharu slipping on a banana skin and then stepping on a comedically placed rake. Rest assured, if this fic was accompanied by a laugh track, the fake studio audience would be roaring with laughter right now.

Koharu pursed his lips and looked up to Oishi. "Where did you find this one?"

"Near the river," Kintarou answered, sounding impatient, "But that doesn't matter! Why are you back early? You weren't meant to come home for weeks!"

"Change of plan. We got some news and Shiraishi decided it would be best if we put off going to Tokyo for a while. Kenya-kun's doing one last sweep of the jungle before coming back to camp, too."

Kintarou seemed suspicious. "But… why? What made you come back?"

"It doesn't matter," Koharu said, "It's probably nothing for us to be concerned about, but Tokyo is off limits for now. Now, were you planning on roasting this guy?"

"Yeah!" Kintarou said, nodding vigorously, "I thought he'd make a great sacrifice for the jungle god! Way better than the goats we usually offer him! And he's got a doubles partner, too, just like you! I figured I'd catch the other one and let them die together, so I was putting off starting the fire!"

"Kintarou, you're a true romantic," Koharu said, his chin in his hands as he looked Oishi up and down. "But it'd be a shame, don't you think? Killing such a handsome guy- ow!"

Koharu winced, and Kintarou gave him a sympathetic look. "Yuuji-senpai yelling at you?"

"Hm. Sometimes I forget he can hear me," Koharu said, crossing his legs and sighing wistfully, "Synchro is a pain sometimes."

Unable to keep himself awake for much longer, Oishi's vision faded and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The next time he awoke, someone was fiddling with the ropes at his wrists. He tensed, but relaxed slightly when he heard a familiar voice hiss, "It's me."

"Eiji," Oishi sighed, craning his neck to try to see him to no avail. "What's going on? Where did they go?"

"The two of them were trying to get Kintarou to take a bath and he ran away," Eiji replied, still struggling with the rope. "Ah- almost done. Be ready for when you fall down."

Oishi nodded. Gradually he felt the ropes loosen and he fell, rather ungracefully, to the ground, barely just landing on his feet. He swayed unsteadily, and Eiji caught him.

"You're bleeding-"

"We have to find the others."

"Is that all you think of?" Eiji asked, his voice uncharacteristically chastising. "You need to think about yourself! You're lucky you've got such a thick head, or you'd have been a goner!"

Oishi didn't answer. He took an unsteady step forward, the ground below his eyes swaying and spinning. Slowly, the made their way forward, back towards the cover of the forest – then feet stepped into view. Bandaged feet.

Oishi made himself look up, his gaze running over bandaged legs and torso and chest and arms and head. They couldn't see the face, with it being covered in bandages, but Oishi was sure it was menacing. There were eyeholes cut out to reveal eyes, but besides that the only part of the body visible besides his hands was his hair.

"Ah~ Nn~ What's this?"

"Yikes!" Eiji said, turning Oishi around, "Other way!"

On the opposite side of the clearing stood an adult man with a solid gold body and a head dress of jungle flowers. Eiji tugged Oishi in the other direction, but a tall bald boy emerged from the trees on that side. They turned again and found themselves facing yet another member of Shitenhouji.

"Oishi!" Eiji yelled, "We're surrounded by freaks!"

"Eiji!"

"Oishi!"

"Well," said the gold man, seemingly amused, "This isn't the usual kind of sacrifice. Someone did tell Kintarou I'm not really the jungle king, right?"

Shitenhouji shifted awkwardly. No, nobody had thought to tell Kintarou that Osamu being an ancient jungle god was an inside joke from before he'd joined the tribe. And now he'd tried to sacrifice humans to a fake deity! How awkward.

"Anyway, we've returned with bad news," Osamu said, sitting down on a rock. Oishi and Eiji made to move, before the advisor added, "I'd sit down and listen if I were you, strangers. I don't know where you came from, but now you're here, this concerns you too."

Very much against their will, Oishi and Eiji sat down to listen to the story.


	11. Chapter 11 feat SEIGAKU and HYOTEI

Tezuka stared at the structure in front of him.

It was a giant castle made of ice. Well, more specifically, it was a giant castle made of ice built upon what looked like a middle school, but it was a giant castle made of ice regardless of it's foundations. Tezuka removed his glasses, wiped them on his jersey, and then replaced them, but still he saw a giant castle made of ice.

This was absurd. It was far too hot for this building to even exist – surely the ice should have melted in this heat!

Yet there it stood, glistening in the sun. Tezuka was slightly disturbed, but something compelled him to enter this icy structure; he felt as though he was a tennis ball, and the castle was him, and also the castle was doing Tezuka Zone and pulling him into it. Yes. That is a good metaphor, if a little ham-fistedly phrased.

He stepped onto the steps that led up to the castle, being careful not to slip on the frosty stairway. Gripping the handrail, he made his way upwards, towards the ice fortress. At the back of his mind, he felt like he shouldn't be doing this. He should be looking for the rest of his team – Seigaku needed their captain! But he had been wandering in the deserted ruins of Tokyo for days, and this was the first time he'd seen anything remotely interesting. Of course his curiosity was peaked.

He made his way into the castle, his feet slipping on the icy floor occasionally. Space boots had no traction! Who knew?

The corridor he found himself in seemed to go on forever. He slipped his way down and then, finding a door, he decided to look around. As soon as he had stepped into the room, however, icicles appeared over the door, barring him in.

Tezuka wanted to panic. He was trapped in this room, which had rather inappropriate ALL VELVET FURNITURE. This room was very out of sync with the rest of the barely furnished castle.

"Ahn, what's this? A spy from Rikkai?"

Tezuka looked up as someone appeared at his prison's icy bars. He grabbed hold of them, then let go as they stung his palms. Clutching his hands together and trying to forget about the pain he looked to Hyotei's captain, his eyes narrowed.

"Rikkai…?" He didn't know what Rikkai meant. He straightened up, his expression serious. "Look here – I'm from Seigaku-"

"Seigaku? What a pathetic lie,"Atobe scoffed, his hand up at his face as he did that… thing… he does with his hand and face, "You could have at least said the name of a real team."

"Who are you?" Tezuka demanded, with as little emotion.

"Who am I?" Atobe responded, seeming genuinely shocked. "I'm Mr White Tennis! I'm Mr Snow! I'm Mr Icicle, I'm Mr Ten Below!"

Tezuka stared. Atobe's voice had taken on an sing-song tone. He was almost- no, he was singing.

"Friends call me Ice Emperor, whatever I touch-" He plucked a rose from thin air, "-turns to ice in my touch!" Indeed, the rose transformed into ice in front of Tezuka's eyes, shattering when Atobe tossed it over his shoulder with little care. "Ha! I'm too much!"

Perhaps Atobe's powers of ice would have been impressive – if not intimidating – if he hadn't been nearly so camp in presenting them. Tezuka only stared at him, his expression blank.

"I may be the ice emperor, but you're just cold," Atobe frowned, his voice sounding slightly disappointed. Perhaps he'd expected more of a reaction from Tezuka. Unfortunately for him, Tezuka was like a noble gas – not in that he was a chemical element, but because he very rarely reacted to anything. He was also strangely odourless. But I digress.

"Well, I'll leave you there to stew for a while, and then I'll make you talk," Atobe said. He smirked as he turned away, skating down the hallway as he thought to himself: _He'll crack. They all do eventually. Crack like a thin sheet of ice does when a fat person (like Tanishi, who is fat) stands on it._

As it turned out, Tezuka did not crack. Well, it was kind of hard for him to do so when Atobe was interrogating him on things he had no clue about: no matter how many times he said he didn't know who or what Rikkai was, tried to explain that he was a stranded astronaut, or insisted that he had no interest in fighting Hyotei, Atobe didn't give up. When Atobe returned to the main living quarters for the fourth time that day, the rest of Hyotei seemed restless.

"Maybe we should let him go," Choutarou said after Atobe had re-entered the room, fingering the cross that hung around his neck nervously. Usually he wasn't the one to bring things like this up, but nobody seemed willing to broach the subject. "He doesn't seem like he's going to break. I don't think there's any point in keeping him prisoner any longer."

"He'll crack eventually," Atobe insisted. "I'm wearing him down. Little by little-"

"Will you stop talking crap?" Shishido snapped, looking up from where he sat. "The guy has nothing to tell you! He's some nutcase that belongs to a school that nobody's heard of. Toss him out onto the streets so we can focus on what's really important."

Atobe frowned. What was really important?

"Have you seriously forgotten freezing Rikkai's captain and pissing them all off already?" Shishido's voice was rising, and Atobe frowned. Of course he hadn't forgotten about it! But Shishido continued, "Rikkai is going to _kill_ us if we don't act soon. We need to come up with a strategy if we don't want to be murdered in our sleep… unless you're too self-absorbed to realise that-"

"Shishido-san…" Choutarou said, sounding concerned.

"ORESAMA IS NOT SELF ABSORBED," Atobe shouted, standing up from the throne-like chair he'd sat himself down on. Shishido stood too, his hands clenching into fists as Atobe continued: "You should show more respect for the king of Hyotei Gakuen."

"You're not the king!" Shishido said, sounding incredulous, "Just because Sakaki left you in charge while he's away doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want!"

"I think you need to chill out-"

"If you start making ice puns I'm going to kill you…"

"Stop fighting!"

Atobe and Shishido stepped away from each other as Choutarou's voice cut through the air. They both felt drained of all their anger, likely due to Choutarou's pussy ass pacifist power that allowed him to dispel any negative emotions within a five metre radius. Shishido sighed bitterly, slumping into his chair. He wasn't angry, and he was angry that he couldn't feel angry – or he would have been, if he could be angry. Right now he was just kind of mildly annoyed.

"Now let's all talk about this reasonably," Choutarou said sternly. Then, as if it was an afterthought, he added, "Ah, sorry Atobe-san, Shishido-san. Using my power like that…"

"Forget about it," Atobe said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically quiet. "Now. Rikkai."

"Speaking of Rikkai," Oshitari said, looking up from the card game he and Gakuto had been too engrossed in to pay attention to what had been happening too (Jirou had been meant to be playing too, but he'd fell asleep as soon as the cards had been dealt). "You know my cousin in Osaka? Seems his school tried to come into Tokyo this week and they ran into Sanada, who told them in no uncertain terms that if he saw Kenya around here again he wouldn't hesitate to torture him for his whereabouts. It seemed a little extreme, but apparently it's the truth."

"See?" Shishido said, sounding somewhat smug. "They're serious."

"Oh, please. That information comes from _Shitenhouji_." Even so, Atobe sounded a little concerned. Finally he relented, sighing dramatically. "Fine. If you want me to forget about the guy in the cell, I suppose we can let him go. But for now, let's come up with some sort of… battle plan."

"Tezuka zooone!"

The nail file that Atobe had carelessly left lying outside Tezuka's makeshift cell was dragged towards him, and Tezuka was grateful he was a prodigy. Atobe might have mutant ice powers, but he had tennis! Picking up the nail file, he labouriously began filing the bars away. Yes, soon he would escape – and as soon as he was out of here, he would find his pillar.

**A/N**: Reviews are appretiated! ^q^ Flames sting tho.


	12. Chapter 12 feat ST RUDOLPH

"You're pretty good at making sushi, eh?"

Kawamura didn't look up from the fish he was holding, placing it upon the rice with great care. When he looked up the old man he'd met upon landing had resumed reading his magazine and seemed disinterested in continuing the conversation, so he said nothing. The Himalayan cat sitting beside him watched him intently, it's bushy tail flicking from side to side occasionally. Besides it's eager purring and the soft sound of the pages of the magazine as the man thumbed through it, everything was silent.

In a way, it was peaceful. It was also kind of creepy. Kawamura finished rolling the last of the sushi, cut it into pieces with the knife he'd been provided with, and sat back, looking at his work contentedly.

"There, finished."

"Oh?" The man looked up, adjusting the dark glasses he wore, then he smiled. Or maybe he didn't. His beard was so full that it was difficult to tell. "Looks good. Seems you're a natural."

He grabbed a piece of sushi and crammed it into his mouth, and Kawamura thought about what he'd said. A natural? He'd never even heard of sushi before he'd met this guy! But making it had been almost nostalgic, and it had come to him naturally. Maybe in another life he'd been a sushi chef. Maybe sushi was in his blood. Maybe he had some sort of sushi-making superpower.

No, all of those suggestions were silly. Kawamura took a piece and took a tentative bite. He wasn't so sure he liked it – then again, he'd been eating food in vacuum packed gel form for as long as he could remember. Swallowing the mouthful, he looked up as he was asked, "So, where did you come from? Seen a lot of you kids around recently."

"Ah, really?" Kawamura asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He supposed "you kids" meant his space brethren, in the space suits with the Seigaku colours. He wondered if the man would believe him if he told the truth. Finally, he said, "Space?"

To his surprise, the man didn't laugh, or accuse him of lying. He took another mouthful of sushi, turned a page in his magazine (Kawamura blushed as he finally noticed what was in it – ladies! Naked ladies!), and said, "Ah. So it's finally your time to come. Who was your coach?"

Kawamura was surprised. "Oh- Ryuzaki-sensei."

"Eh, really? How is the old hag?"

Kawamura shuffled awkwardly. He remembered Ryuzaki-sensei's deadly illness. He wondered if she was still alive – it had probably been a few days since they'd landed, and she had been on the verge of death then. What a lonely way to die, floating up there alone in space. He would have shed a single tear in her memory, but he didn't want to be the one to break the news to this person. How did he even know Ryuzaki-sensei?

"She's… okay," he said finally. Then, realising something, he asked, "What's your name? Maybe Ryuzaki-sensei's told us about you before."

The man snorted, shaking his head. "I doubt it. She'd probably think I was a bad influence."

They were both silent. Then the man said, "You got a kid named Echizen on your space shuttle?"

Kawamura looked up, eyes widening. "E-Echizen? Yeah."

"Thought so. He's grown up to be quite the player." There was a hint of fondness in the man- in Nanjiroh's- in Manjiroh's? voice, which was muffled when he picked up another sushi roll and mumbled as he ate it, "Well, I should be going. Thanks for the sushi, kid."

"No, wait!" Kawamura stood as Nanjiroh stood, Karupin at his heels. "You can't just leave- what connection do you have to Echizen?"

Nanjiroh whistled as he sashayed away. Kawamura yelled, "Ryuzaki-sensei isn't alright! She's dying!"

Nanjiroh paused, and turned to Kawamura, who broke down and let it all come out.

"She's sick and… and she probably won't make it! She said we should come to Earth to find her granddaughter, but I don't know where to start looking and I can't find anyone in my team. And you're just going to walk away?"

He was a little mad. Nanjiroh paused though, his back to him. Slowly he turned around, and raised an eyebrow. "I think Ryuzaki had bigger plans for you than just finding her granddaughter," he said, surprisingly cryptic. He paused, before adding, "And I wouldn't worry. That old hag wouldn't die even if you killed her."

Another pause.

"God knows I've tried."

**MEANWHILE, AT ST. RUDOLPH**

"Very good, Yuuta. Raise your arm a bit. Keep your muscles tensed. Be ready to attack at any moment."

Yuuta frowned. He'd been holding this pose for ten minutes already. Recently he'd begun to expect that these training sessions were less an excuse to train, and more of an excuse for their data man, Mizuki Hajime, to ogle him.

Well, at least he didn't use them as an excuse to touch hi-

"Twist your hips a little more."

Mizuki's voice was suddenly right next to his ear, his hot breath tickling the skin. Mizuki's hands found his waist and fingers clamped down hard on the flesh below them. A shiver ran down Yuuta's spine; a shiver of… revulsion.

"Mizuki," he said, through gritted teeth, "What are you doing?"

"I'm just helping you improve your form, Yuuta." Yuuta didn't think that Mizuki's hands gliding down to grope his ass was very important when it came to improving his form. Neither did he think Mizuki sucking at his neck helped, but he didn't say anything. Mizuki was their analyst, after all. He probably know more about this stuff than he did. Mizuki hummed, then said, "You've improved so much lately. I can still remember when you came to us, and you knew nothing."

Yuuta remembered it too. Before St Rudolph had found him, he'd been a loner. People who weren't in teams tended to be picked off quickly – there was strength in numbers, after all, and few mutants liked to play fair, instead picking off weaker people by ganging up on them. Fortunately, Yuuta was tough, so even if he hadn't belonged to team, he'd managed to survive. Mizuki saw this, and admired it, and eventually he ended up recruiting the younger boy.

Even if St Rudolph was welcoming, Yuuta had always felt like he didn't belong there. He had distant memories, of a family – a brother – and a human life. He tried to forget them. Clinging to memories of being normal, trying to cling onto shreds of humanity, had been the end of many strong mutants.

Yes, if he could live the rest of his days without remembering anything from that life, he would be happy. So of course something had to ruin it.

Mizuki, who had been squeezing his shoulders in an amateur attempt at a deep muscle massage, looked up, spotting something that Yuuta hadn't noticed yet. His voice was tense as he said, "Who is that?"

Yuuta followed his gaze. Walking across the wasteland was a figure in a red, white and blue space suit, a bulky helmet tucked under one arm and a tennis racket in his other hand. Mizuki detached himself from Yuuta, and hissed, "Keep your guard up."

Yuuta couldn't keep his guard up. The person should have been a stranger, but everything about him seemed familiar; his serene smile, his closed eyes. He was very definitely a human, but Yuuta could sense tennis power and skill rolling off him in waves.

"Brother," Yuuta breathed.

"Brother?" Mizuki repeated.

"Brother," Fuji smiled.

Yuuta felt memories flooding back to him. When he was little, being picked on, Fuji was always by his side. It used to be just childish hijinks, kids being kids and being a little too rough-and-tumble. That was until one day everything went terribly wrong.

Yuuta only remembered it in fragments. Being pushed to the ground, and his head splitting open as it struck a rock. That had hurt, but it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as the trail of fire that erupted from the open wound did, his anger embodied in flames. It engulfed the kids that had picked the fight, and their screams mixed with his sobs and Fuji's stunned, scared silence created a cacophony of deafening noise that made his ears ring.

They were fortunate nobody else had been at the park to witness the event. Fuji helped him stand and led him away from the blackened bodies. Yuuta could remember his legs shaking, and the cold sweat that clung to his body. His wound didn't bleed; it had been cauterized when his power had been activated. He cried most of the way home.

Before they reached their house, Fuji took him somewhere nobody could see or hear them, and looked at him seriously. Yuuta could tell he was serious because his eyes were open, intense and vividly blue.

"Yuuta," he said, "You can't tell anyone about what happened back there."

Yuuta nodded, but he was full of conflicted emotions. Those kids had been hurt – badly hurt – and you were meant to tell an adult if someone got hurt. But he had been the one who'd hurt them. He'd get in trouble, and probably Fuji would, too. Fuji seemed to sense his hesitation and gripped his shoulders, shaking him lightly.

"Seriously, Yuuta. You can't tell anyone," he said, his voice sterner. "If you tell someone, they'll tell the police and then you'll be taken away, and we won't see each other again."

Yuuta nodded, this time more vigorously. He didn't want to be taken away from his family! He didn't understand anything that had happened, but Fuji did – Fuji was older, after all, almost five and wise to the ways of the world. If he did as Fuji said, they'd both be safe.

Of course, in the end it had been Fuji that had gone missing. No matter how many times he asked, his parents and sister refused to answer him when he asked where he was.

And now Fuji was here, standing in front of him and smiling. Then again, Yuuta couldn't remember time where Fuji didn't smile. Even when it was really inappropriate.

"Yuuta," Fuji said, "It's been a while. How have you been?"

How could he speak so calmly, like no time had passed between them at all? Yuuta dropped his racket in shock, and Mizuki hissed "Idiot," and darted to stand in front of him, racket raised.

"Mizuki-" Yuuta began, but he was cut off.

"Pick up your racket! You don't know for a fact that's really your brother, for a start. There's such a thing as shapeshifters, you know?"

Yuuta felt stupid for a second, then quickly denied the possibility. "But I've never even told anyone about Syuusuke-"

"And mind readers don't exist?" Mizuki remained convinced. "Pick up your racket. Be ready to fight."

"I don't know why you want to fight me," Fuji said calmly, stepping forward and placing a hand on Mizuki's shoulder. Mizuki, apparently not expecting Fuji to be so bold, was pushed aside easily in his surprise. "But let me see my little brother. I've missed him."

Mizuki bristled visibly. "If you touch him-"

"Mizuki," Yuuta hissed. The scar on his head glowed white hot. "If you get between us anymore, I'll make sure you regret it."

Yuuta didn't threaten Mizuki often. Few people did. Mizuki was a mystery: intelligent, sneaky, and with an unknown power. Generally, you didn't pick fights with mutants if you didn't know what they were capable of. They could have a power that was as useless as Yanagisawa (really, when was turning into a duck useful?), or they could have a power that could kill you in an instant. Mizuki had never revealed his power, so he remained shady. Shady.

He apparently didn't want to reveal his power just yet, though, as he backed down quickly, his shoulders slumping silently. Yuuta relaxed, and Fuji said, "You can still do that, Yuuta?"

Yuuta felt guilty. He'd promised Fuji that he wouldn't use his power in addition to promising not to tell anyone. Fuji didn't seem mad, though. Instead he shrugged and said, "Well, it doesn't look like you'll be taken away anymore. Where are all the people? What happened to the buildings?"

Yuuta sighed. "Well, that's a long story…"

He told most of the story as they walked back to St Rudolph, Mizuki stalking a few metres behind them, obviously in a bad mood. Yuuta tried to ignore the bad mood his senpai was in and concentrate on filling in Fuji on what had happened to Earth after he'd disappeared: when everyone who hadn't mutated had begun to get sick and die, and soon the mutants inherited the Earth. Fuji listened, nodding occasionally. Once Yuuta had finished, he said, "What about you? Where did you go?"

"Space."

"Space?" Yuuta gawped. He'd assumed the space suit had been… some kind of costume, or something! Though he knew Mizuki wanted no part in this conversation, he couldn't help shouting back to Mizuki, "Did you hear that, Mizuki? Space!"

"Yeah, whatever," Mizuki mumbled, "I could've come from space too, you know. I just didn't want to."

St Rudolph had been wary of Fuji at first, but once they learned Yuuta was cool w/ him, they quickly accepted his presence. Fuji was fascinated by the idea of mutants and their powers, and St Rudolph was fascinated by Fuji's life in space. When the subject turned to tennis, they were all equally interested.

"You play?" Akazawa said, sounding surprised. Of course he would be; humans rarely played tennis. They just weren't good enough. When Fuji nodded, he raised an eyebrow, and said, "Do you play well?"

Fuji smiled. "Well, I'm not one to brag…"

Mizuki wasn't listening. He was watching Yuuta, who was watching Fuji with wide eyes. What was so good about Fuji, anyway? Okay, so they were related. Who cared? Big deal. Whatever.

His interest was caught once more when Akazawa asked to play Fuji, and a smirk crept onto his lip. Yuuta's brother he might be, but there was no way Fuji could handle playing their captain, St Rudolph's malevolent big black pillar!

As it turned out, though, Fuji breezed through their match. And then he played Nomura, then Kaneda, then Atsushi and Yanagisawa at once. Each time he employed on of his triple counters, the match was over in an instant.

After his last match he looked up, smiling. He was clearly trying to appear modest, but there was no doubt that he was incredibly self-satisfied as he said, "Well, who'll play me next? Yuuta? Or… ah, sorry, I've forgotten-"

"It's Mizuki," Mizuki snapped. "Anyway, nobody will play you next, because I have something more important to talk about."

Everyone fell silent. Fuji reluctantly sat down.

"Well, you should all know about Rikkai and Hyotei's conflict by now," Mizuki said, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. "I think it's about time we stopped pretending it wasn't happening and picked a side. The sooner we declare our allegiance, the sooner we get one of them off our backs."

"Mizuki…" Akazawa said, his voice sounding terse. He was obviously struggling to keep his voice down as he went on, "I don't think that's really your decision to make. _I'm _the captain-"

"Oh, don't misunderstand. You certainly are a capable captain, _captain_. I mean, if we forget about your frankly embarrassing loss to a human only mere moments ago, you have a spotless record," Mizuki didn't seem at all intimidated by the intense anger that radiated from Akazawa. "Now, _personally_, I think we should side with Rikkaidai. Their data man is simply exemplary, and besides that, I can't stand Atobe Keigo. He's so…"

Mizuki trailed off. Nobody wanted to point out that any word he could have used to describe Atobe could have been applied to him as well. Mizuki shook his head, continuing, "But anyway, I digress. Rikkai it is."

"Hold on, dane," Yanagisawa said, "Shouldn't we put it to a vote, dane? Why do you get to decide, dane?"

"Because I'm the smart one," Mizuki snapped. He scowled, then continued, "And if we plan on entering a war, we have to get rid of him."

He looked pointedly at Fuji, but the rest of the team looked appalled. Mizuki stole a glance of Yuuta out the corner of his eye, and he was pleased to see that he didn't look nearly as scandalized as the others did over the prospect of abandoning Fuji.

"Mizuki," Akazawa began. His voice had now risen to a healthy shouting volume. "Is that wise? Even for a human, Fuji is impressive-"

"Having humans on your team is a sign of weakness!" Mizuki snapped, his voice raising to match Akazawa's (though he was nowhere near as good a shouter as Akazawa, who had had years of practice). "That's how Rikkai got themselves into this mess in the first place. Having a human as your captain... well, that'd be like having a human as your data man. It would be an embarrassment. No wonder Hyotei thought they could knock them around a bit."

"Someone being human isn't an excuse to kill them," Yuuta pointed out.

"Well, either way, Yukimura was growing weak. It wouldn't have been long before he died, either way," Mizuki shrugged callously. He paused, before adding, "if we do end up being Rikkai's allies, don't tell any of them I said that."

St Rudolph nodded. Much as they disliked Mizuki at times, nobody deserved to face Rikkai's wrath if they found out he'd been badmouthing their captain. They were quiet for a while, contemplating his words, until Yuuta said, "I'm going for a walk."

He stood, leaving the tennis court where they'd sat and making his way down the desolate street. Night had fallen already. The streetlights had stopped working long ago, and now the neighbourhood was only lit by dim moonlight. He could barely see anything, so when a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulders, he panicked slightly- until he heard a familiar voice say, "Don't panic. It's only me."

"Syuusuke?"

"Hn."

"Why did you follow me?"

"The others said it might be dangerous for you to walk alone so late at night. I offered to come and make sure you were okay."

Yuuta gripped his racket tightly. Of course it was dangerous, but that's why he'd brought his racket! Did the other's not trust him to be able to fend off any street tennis punks that might attack him? And even if they did think that, they'd chosen to send Fuji after him. Did they think his tennis was so bad that even a human was better than him? Did they think so little of him?

"It's not dangerous. Not for me."

"Yuuta-"

"Will you leave me alone?" He snapped, spinning on his heel to face Fuji. He couldn't see his brothers face, but it was probably surprised - he was behaving totally irrationally, after all. He had no reason to be mad, and yet he was somehow furious. Taking a deep breath, he tried to force himself to calm down. "I mean... I'm fine. You can go back. Stop worrying about me."

"Stop worrying about my little brother wandering around a dangerous place alone?" Fuji said. His voice contained little emotion, but he sounded dubious. He stepped forward, and Yuuta felt his hand touch his arm, giving it a slight squeeze. "As long as we're together, it'll be alright, right?"

Yuuta was silent. Fuji still didn't let go of his arm. Instead he sighed, continuing. "Yuuta, I have to find my team mates. I'm going to have to leave soon."

He felt slightly relieved knowing that. Maybe when Fuji left, things would go back to normal, and he could forget about how a human played so much better than him.

"You should come with me, Yuuta," Fuji said.

"Come with you...? But-"

"It would be great. My team would love you," Fuji's smile was evident in his voice. "If you're worried about them not accepting you, don't worry. They'll welcome you - you're my little brother after all."

"If I go with you, that's all I'll be," Yuuta said, bitterly.

"Eh?"

"Your little brother," he said. "When you showed up and played against Captain Akazawa and my senpais, the way they looked at me was like... like they were seeing me differently. You can't have noticed because you've only just noticed, but they used to look at me with more respect. I was the best player on the team, then you showed up, and compared to you-"

"That's nonsense, Yuuta. You're your own person."

"I know that. I know that!" He was annoyed, "But other people don't see it that way! Not when you're around- I'll always be compared to you!"

Fuji didn't say anything, and in a way Yuuta was glad. But it also worried him, as though Fuji was silently agreeing with him. He swallowed, then said, quietly, "Syuusuke, are you even human?"

Fuji only chuckled, which was slightly worrying considering he didn't immediately deny it outright. Yuuta was 90% sure that Fuji was a normal human, but there had been something about his tennis that had been almost inhuman, unnatural. Tsubame gaeshi (that's big bear 4 u baka gaijins!) was unlike anything Yuuta had ever seen, and living in a society of mutants, he'd seen a lot of weird stuff.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing much I can do to convince you," Fuji said. The hand on Yuuta's arm slid down and then squeezed his hand, "Even if you don't want to be seen as it, you'll always be my little brother to me."

"I know," Yuuta hissed. He tugged his hand out of Fuji's, then said, "Syuusuke?"

"Hm?"

"If our paths ever cross again, and you're not on our side, I won't show any mercy," he was glad Fuji couldn't see him, and could only hope that he didn't notice the waver in his voice. "If it comes down to a match between the two of us, I'm not going to hold back. I'll fight you with all of my might and prove I'm my own tennis player."

Fuji smirked. The way his next words came out chilled Yuuta. TO. The. BONE!

"I'm looking forward to it."

**MEANWHILE, IN SPACE**

Seishun Gakuen Space Station was silent. A transmitter by Ryuzaki-sensei's bed crackled to life with a burst of static. She felt too weak to pick it up.

Then a voice came through the white noise, faint at first.

"Ryuzaki? Oi, you there? Pick this thing up."

She felt too weak to move. Then another voice joined the first. If this was a 90s teen movie, there would have been a three way split screen featuring each caller.

"Well, howdy, Sumire. I sent my pupils to Earth like you suggested. I'm not one to brag, but I think as far as mutant killing goes Yamabuki will thrash Seigaku-"

Ryuzaki felt her blood boil. Sheer ire ran through her veins, and suddenly she was imbued with a new lease of life. Rolling out of bed she tackled the transmitter to the floor, pushing the broadcast button as she roared, "BaaaaaAAAAA_AAA_ああ_ああ__**あ**_**ああ**あNNJIIIIII-"

A/N: this is almost 4000 words long oh god i'm sorry i'm gonna go curl up and cry to myself about what my life has become now ε=ε=ε=┌(;*´Д`)ﾉ


	13. Chapter 13 feat RIKKAI

Akaya Kirihara wasn't really sure how he'd joined Rikkai.

That period of his life was still a blur. He'd mutated at around five years of age, though at the start his power was random and beyond his control. Unpredictable as it was, though, he soon learned to control it, though his true power and potential remained untapped.

When the end of the world came and tennis became an essential skill in being able to survive, he remained in his mutated state pretty much constantly, and he became something of an urban legend. He wasn't afraid of anyone, and there was nobody that wasn't afraid of him.

That's what he thought, at least. That was until he'd met Yukimura.

Rikkai had had a reputation even back then, but not belonging to a team and not caring much to listen to gossip, he'd never heard it. So when Yukimura had challenged him to a match, he'd been taken aback.

"You want what?" He asked, as though he'd misheard him. He knew he hadn't, though, and Yukimura repeating his question calmly had only reinforced that.

"I said, how about we play a game?" Yukimura slid his racket out of it's case, holding it carefully. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It wasn't a friendly smile, but cool, confident, one to show that this challenge wasn't intended for fun. "If you win, you'll join our team. It's a bet."

Kirihara's eyes narrowed, green irises surrounded by pink (he was in Devil Mode he didn't just have pink eye FYI). He quickly scanned the members of Rikkai that stood behind Yukimura: Sanada, Marui, Jackal, Renji, Niou and Yagyuu. Each one of them looked far stronger than Yukimura, whose slender figure and delicate features were all Kirihara could see.

"Are you sure you don't want to let someone else in your team challenge me?" He snapped, swinging his racket impetuously. "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're a human, you know."

Yukimura smiled, walking onto the court. His jersey fluttered from his shoulders, landing on the ground nearby. Sanada hurried to pick it up and dust it clean, and Kirihara scowled. For a mutant to hurry after a human was appalling – how could Sanada live like that? Wasn't he ashamed? They were the stronger species – he shouldn't be whipped by a human! He looked back to Yukimura, who was tapping his foot as he waited.

When he seemed sure he'd gotten Kirihara's attention, Yukimura asked, "Rough, or smooth?"

"Like it matters either way," Kirihara snorted. "You'll lose no matter who serves first, so I'll let you start."

Yukimura only smiled. "As you wish."

Kirihara panted, cursing silently as he missed yet another ball. Yukimura couldn't possibly be a human, he told himself – he moved with such agility, hit with such strength, that he couldn't possibly not be a mutant. And yet… he was. Mutants had an acquired ability to discern humans from their own. An instinct, even. Everything about Yukimura – besides his exceptional tennis – reeked of human. He had no doubt about that.

So how was he being beaten? Maybe someone else in the team was influencing the way the game was playing out. Kirihara glanced to Rikkai – it should be obvious if any of them were using their powers. Yukimura followed his gaze, and smirked.

"None of them are using their powers, if that's what you're wondering," he said, "I really am just that good."

Kirihara growled, grabbing the ball from where it had landed. They were currently at 3-0, but he didn't plan on giving up just yet. Bouncing the ball, he glared at Yukimura, his eyes narrowed. Where to hit him…? Maybe he'd destroy his knee, or maybe he'd beat his pretty face to a pulp. Kirihara's blood was boiling now. Literally. His body was at 100 degrees centigrade and his blood was bubblin' in his veins.

He decided to go with the knee. That would be harder to make look like an accident, but at this point, he didn't care. Even if Yukimura realised what was happening after the first few hits, he'd keep going.

The first time the ball hit Yukimura the other winced and audibly gasped, and Kirihara smiled, revelling in the others pain. His grin faltered when he saw the other straighten up, smile though he was obviously still in pain, and say, "Now now – can't you play nice? Or are you afraid you'll lose if you do?"

"Sh-shut up!" Kirihara snapped. He was going to be beaten (literally!), and he still thought he could speak to him like that? Snatching up the ball he aimed again, and Yukimura let out a groan as the ball connected with his knee, stumbling back slightly. "You're trying to trash talk me _now_? I'll crumble your knee into dust!"

Another shot, and he was sure this would be the deciding one – until Yukimura dodged it nimbly, returning it with ease. Kirihara gaped as the ball bounced past him, and he smiled coolly.

"You're surprised it didn't work?" Yukimura asked. "The other's you played against must have been idiots if they fell for such predictable moves again and again. You'll find that I'm not like them."

Kirihara snarled and spat at him in response. Yukimura rolled his eyes and said, "That's 30-15. Will you serve again?"

The rest of the game returned to being in Yukimura's favour, and as Kirihara let the ball slip past him once more, Yukimura announced, "6-0. This is my win, I think."

Kirihara wasn't accustomed to losing, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. With nothing else to do he vaulted the net, intending to turn their fight physical. He didn't reach Yukimura before a hand collided with his cheek, the sound of the slap echoing and his body being sent reeling from the impact. He looked up, rubbing his swollen cheek, and Sanada glared down at him.

"Yukimura beat you, so you intend to attack him? How childish," he spat. Turning away, his arm reached around Yukimura's shoulders, intending to guide him away. "Come, Yukimura – you've been outside for too long. We should head back."

Kirihara's red eyes dimmed to pink, then finally the whites of his eyes returned to… white… He looked up, watching as Sanada slipped the discarded jersey back onto Yukimura's body and zipped it up to the neck. Yukimura's shoulders were slumped, his face looking pale and his eyes dim.

"You over-exerted yourself," Sanada was grumbling, "I knew this was a bad idea. Renji said you should rest."

"I'm fine," Yukimura insisted. His voice sounded weak, miles apart from the cocky tone it had had mere moments ago. "I've told you before, it's just a cold."

"A cold doesn't last for weeks-"

"You worry too much."

Kirihara looked down at the ground where he'd landed, his cheeks burning in humiliation. So he'd been beaten by a human – and worse, a human that was ill. He'd never live this down as long as he lived. He wanted to die right now.

Yukimura turned as Sanada guided him away, and Kirihara sighed. Good. He never wanted to see them again.

He started as he felt two hands grip his shoulder, and looked up – the redhead and the baldnette. Marui blew a bubble and grinned.

"C'mon, we're leaving."

"Wuh.. what?"

"You agreed you'd join our team if you lost," Marui looked exasperated. "So get up. If we don't get back before dark Sanada will probably lock us out."

"I… I didn't…"

"You did," Jackal said, slipping a hand under Kirihara's arm as Marui did the same, and together they tugged him up. "Get a move on. The sooner we get you fitted for a jersey the sooner we can get one sewn for you."

"A jersey?" Kirihara mumbled, before looking up, "So I… really am on your team…?"

Marui snorted and play punched his arm. "Do you think we'd be taking you back to our school if you weren't? Idiot."

A team. Kirihara's heart warmed slightly. It was almost like being a part of a family.

Over the next few years, Rikkai changed from being like a family to being a family. Kirihara had mentioned this to Sanada as he'd practiced his calligraphy, Kirihara staying inside with him one day instead of going outside and bearing Marui and Jackal's constant teasing.

"Of course we're a family," he said, not looking away from the jet black ink he painted onto the off-white parchment, "Family doesn't have to be bound by blood. If you have a bond that's deep and cannot be broken, then you're family."

Kirihara frowned. "Well, if we're family, then why do Marui and Jackal like to bug me so much?"

"Because you're brothers," Sanada said simply. "That's what brothers do."

They were quiet for a while. Kirihara had noticed that conversations with Sanada seemed to be punctuated by long silences as a rule – even with Yukimura, with whom he was undeniably the most comfortable around, there were often lulls in the conversation. This wasn't something Kirihara minded, though it did often make him wonder if he'd said something wrong, or if his company was annoying Sanada.

"So if we're brothers," Kirihara said, "Then Yukimura and you are our mom and dad."

Sanada snorted and ducked his head, hiding the expression on his face, which was a mixture of amusement and horror. Kirihara, having never seen Sanada laugh before, was unsure of what to make of it.

"Ah, I didn't mean that in a bad way!" He said quickly, waving his hands, "It's just- because you two have known each other the longest and stuff, and-"

Sanada held up a hand, silencing him as he tried to repair the damage he'd done to his calligraphy when he'd lost his concentration. "It's fine, Akaya, don't worry about it…"

Light hearted moments like that were a far cry from what Rikkai's headquarters felt like now. There was a heavy atmosphere in the air. Everyone was mourning Yukimura's death, of course, but the was Sanada had recently declared on Hyotei didn't help to lighten the mood. Kirihara, Marui and Jackal sat around a table playing cards in an attempt to take their minds off it, but they were restless.

Marui cracked his gum, and Kirihara swung his head to glare at him.

"Will you stop doing that?" He snapped, clenching the cards he held tight. "It's so annoying."

"You're so annoying," Marui snapped back. He cracked his gum once more.

"Quit it!" Kirihara spat, throwing his cards down to the table.

"Quit it!" Marui returned in a baby voice, rolling his eyes. "What are you, Kirihara, a baby? Babyhara? Huh?"

Jackal slammed a fist on the table, and yelled, "Will you two stop it?"

The card game dissolved into anarchy. Marui had Kirihara had a headlock, the younger boy's eyes glowing red as Jackal tried to separate them, when finally a voice cut through the noises of their fight.

"STOP IT."

The immediately untangled themselves from each other and straightened up as Sanada stood in the doorway, a look on his face that could kill. Then his face split into a grin, and he said brightly, "Kidding."

The image of Sanada in front of them swayed and the illusion faded, revealing Niou. The fight would have started up again, had they not been so relieved to see them. Yagyuu and Niou had gone their separate ways a few months ago, supposedly looking for somewhere more permanent to live that would be good for Yukimura's condition; somewhere where they could live a quiet life with fresh, clean air and little conflict. Of course, now that mission was pointless, and so they'd returned.

"When did you get back?" Jackal asked.

"A few days ago. Sorry for not stopping in to see you sooner. Been busy," he reached into his pocket and tossed some items onto the table; a pack of gum and some sweets. Marui grabbed the gum, and Jackal pushed some of the sweets towards Kirihara, who didn't move to take them. "This is a mess we've gotten into, eh? I don't know how he thinks we're going to stand up against Hyotei."

Nobody spoke. Niou frowned. "So Yukimura's really…?"

They nodded miserably, and he gave a low whistle. "Wow. I didn't think anything would kill that guy."

Then Niou left the room bc idk how to write niou

Kirihara, Marui and Jackal slumped back in their chairs (idk if they were sittin down but they are now). Kirihara sighed heavily, and said, "I just wish there was something we could do."

He started when he felt Sanada's GINORMOUS HAND fall on his shoulder, fracturing the bone beneath the skin. When he looked up, he was slightly frightened of the expression on Sanada's face: he looked absolutely deranged, dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, dark shadows around his mouth from being too obsessed w/ Hyoutei to shave.

"Actually," sanada said, "there is something you can do, Kirihara…"

a/n ollies off this earth XDD


	14. Chapter 14 feat HYOTEI

Kirihara gazed up at Hyoutei's ice castle, half in awe, half in horror. Awerror, if you will. Frankly, he couldn't believe that Sanada had trusted him with this task – it was a suicide mission! He was gonna die! But Sanada had told him he had to do it, and he didn't want to argue with Sanada – especially not when he was acting like he was now.

So he found himself sent to Hyoutei. Sanada's plan made little sense: he'd been told to go to Hyoutei and spy on them, but the rest of the details had been hazy. What was he spying on them for? Was he meant to be looking for something! Kirihara didn't understand Sanada anymore. He braced himself, turning and walking up the icy steps to the castle. He almost slipped a few times, but he picked himself up soon enough. By the time he'd reached the door to the castle, he swallowed, and tried to pluck together his courage.

Not that he was scared.

Well, maybe he was a little - Hyoutei had killed Yukimura, after all, and Yukimura was the strongest person Kirihara had known, even if he had been sick. At the memory, he felt himself grow angry, and he struggled to stop himself from going into devil mode. He was meant to be being sneaky, after all. Biting his lip, he tried to think up something to say to Atobe when he would confront him - but he found he had less time to plan ahead than he'd thought as he heard Hyoutei's captain's smug voice behind him.

"Ahn~ What's this? Another one from Rikkai was stupid enough to come here?"

Kirihara spun on his heel. He was slightly confused by Atobe's words - nobody from Rikkai had come here in the first place! - but he tried to keep his expression neutral. When he didn't answer Atobe frowned, and continued, "Well, what do you want? Did you come here to fight? Even if you're as good as you think you are, I'm better."

Kirihara swallowed. Then he fell to his knees in front of Atobe, his hands shaking from the cold. Maybe he shouldn't have knelt down on ice with just his shorts on.

"Please," he said, trying to sound earnest. "I want to join your team!"

Atobe scowled.

"Rikkai is weak," Kirihara continued. The words felt traitorous coming out of his mouth, even if it was all an act. "I want to be part of a strong team, and I've come to realise that... that Hyoutei is the strongest!"

Kirihara didn't look up. He didn't want to see Atobe's expression, but he guessed from his silence that he was not yet completely sold on the idea. Now he was getting desperate.

"And I know that Hyoutei is so strong because they have a... king... like you, Atobe-"

A loud tsk cut him off, and Kirihara closed his eyes, ready to feel Atobe's icy touch consume him. When he was unharmed he cracked open an eye, and looked up. Atobe still seemed to be in a bad mood, but apparently Kirihara wasn't the cause of it, because he said, "Fine. Come in to the castle - I can at least use you as a foot stool."

xoxoxox

Kirihara shifted uncomfortably as Atobe flopped back onto his throne, kicked off his shoes and rested his feet on the small of his back. He hadn't expected his words to be literal, but he supposed he had work his way up the ranks by starting somewhere. Though this was ridiculous - how was he supposed to learn any of Hyoutei's secrets if his position in the team was as a piece of furniture? He pouted, and Atobe, now comfortable, slipped a cell phone out of his pocket.

Several miles away, Tezuka was making his way through the abandoned streets of Tokyo, trying to locate the rest of his team. He was startled by a loud ringing noise, and looked around in an attempt to locate it before realising the noise was coming from.. within... HIS OWN POCKET! He pulled out a cell phone, stared at it curiously, before answering it and pressing it to his ear.

He remained silent, waiting to see who would answer - and he didn't have to wait long before Atobe's sultry voice said, "Ah, my mysterious Rikkai member. You picked up at last."

Tezuka didn't answer. Atobe didn't seem annoyed as he carried on talking, ignoring Tezuka's silence. "I've got something of yours here with me now. If you don't want your underclassman to come to any harm, I'd return to the palace pronto."

"I already told you," Tezuka said finally, "I'm not from Rik-"

"Oh, hush. Drop the charade, Rikkai-kun," Atobe said. "Now look. Oresama expects you to hurry back quick-quick. I'm calling you in nothing but my robe and I'm offering something you absolutely can't refuse."

"I refuse," Tezuka said blankly, fumbling with the cellphone and ending the call.

On his end of the line, Atobe let out a wail and threw his head back, tossing the phone across the room. Why was this happening to him? He was young, nubile, beautiful - he should be able to get anyone he wanted, and yet Tezuka spurned his advances at every opportunity! It was tragic. Tragically beautiful.. He let out a long, depressed sigh. Under his feet Kirihara shifted and finally said, in an intolerably plucky manner, "Don't worry, Atobe-sama! I'm sure he'll come round eventually!"

"Shut up, Kirihara."

Kirihara looked like a dog that had just been kicked.

"But who is he?" Atobe said, resting his chin in his hands. "He says he's not from Rikkai. I didn't recognise him, but I know you have two members of your team that are adept at mimicking other people's faces. It wasn't one of them?"

Kirihara shook his head, clearly unsure of what Atobe was talking about. Yagyuu could only impersonate Niou, and while Niou liked to mess with people, Kirihara was positive that he hadn't been any where near Hyoutei. Who was Atobe talking about then?

"I miss him," Atobe said, sounding genuinely sad. "He was a perfect example of manhood. Handsome - not as much as oresama, mind you, but who is? I'd love to play with him. Or freeze him as an ice statue and immortalise his beauty for all eternity."

Atobe paused, and then said suddenly: "Speaking of ice statues - whatever happened to your captain?"

Kirihara's face fell, and Atobe chuckled. "Speaking of ice, go and get me a drink. Something long and cool."

Atobe shifted to let Kirihara slip out from under his feet, and the younger boy stumbled up and out of the room. His heart was racing – this was it! This was his chance to find some secret hidden weakness of Hyoutei's and make Sanada proud!

He'd only gotten halfway down the corridor when he was grabbed from behind, someone pulling him close to his chest and clamping a hand over his mouth. He squirmed weakly, but Kabaji shouted, "Halt, Rikkai scum."

Then the hand that silenced his shouts became smaller and paler, and Niou laughed as he let go of him. Kirihara did not join in; he glared at Niou and blushed a little, then demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to _save_ you," Niou said, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you wanna get turned to ice?"

"I'm not going to get caught," Kirihara scowled, "I won't get caught if you'll just leave!"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Never mind!"

"Because Sanada told you to-"

"Of course!" Kirihara spat, "He's the vice-captain-"

"He's _the_ captain," Niou said pointedly, "Yukimura is dead."

Kirihara fell silent, and Niou seemed like he had won some small victory. Placing his hands on Kirihara's shoulders, he stared at him and said, "This isn't a game. You're a kid. Go home and let us take care of it."

"I'm only a year younger than you," Kirihara said, but Niou ignored him. When Niou tried to urge him to move he shook his head. "And I'm not leaving. I'm a member of this team and I'm going to play my part! I'm not a baby!"

Niou stared at him, then shrugged and turned into a speck of dust bc I still don't know how to write niou

Kirihara felt more determined than ever. He would discover Hyoutei's secret! He would make Sanada proud!

A/N GOMEN NASAL FOR THE LONG WAIT! I'll update more often in the future i swear (´o_o`)


	15. Chapter 15 feat BEAR

Inui adjusted his glasses and looked over his data. "My data tells me that we are...very off course."

An annoyed hiss answered him. Of course they had no idea where they were! Their pod had landed in a river, for god's sake! Kaidoh was still soaking wet from their collision with earth! He wrung out his bandanna angrily. "Yeah, well, I could have fucking told that myself."

"Don't be rude," Inui said calmly, snapping shut his notebook. Considering they were from space, you'd think he would have some sort of special space technology that was more advanced than a notebook, but a notebook was always the most practical option. A notebook would never short circuit! It was a little soggy though. Luckily, he had encased it in a sheet of plastic before they left. He was very careful when it came to his data. He wandered off in several directions, inspecting the trees and the various pieces of litter that were floating downstream. If his calculations were correct... "We're in the middle of a forest."

"What's a forest?"

Inui thought very carefully. "It's a large expanse of land covered in trees. See these?" He gestured to the trees that were around them. "These are trees."

"Huh." Kaidoh admired the wilderness for a moment before returning to his bandanna-wringing. Inui returned to his notebook, scribbling who-knows-what into it. Well, I know. He was writing data pertaining to Kaidoh's laundry skills. It was absolutely necessary.

"Inui-senpai."

"Yes, Kaidoh?"

"What's that?"

Inui looked up from his notebook. Across the river from them was a...what was that? Kaidoh's guess was as good as his. He looked through his data quickly. The data on his glasses, that is - they were like miniature computers. He could search the web at lightning quick speeds, at any time, in any place! They sure were convenient. He frowned. "That appears to be a bear, Kaidoh."

"A..." Kaidoh was staring the bear down with an unreadable expression on his face. "A bear?"

"Yes. They are carnivorous but aren't known to attack humans unless provoked. How strange of us to meet one," Inui pushed up his glasses. That was enough data about bears for one day when he could be analyzing Kaidoh. "We should be careful, nonetheless-"

"GRAAAAAAAR" the bear roared. It didn't sound like a bear, really

"RAAEEEERRRRRRRRR"

"We have alerted it of our presence." Inui said, turning to Kaidoh. "We should-" he paused, realizing that...Kaidoh was gone?

He wasn't really gone. He was swimming across the river, fighting the current.  
>"Kaidoh-!"<p>

Kaidoh flopped onshore on the opposite side, a few mere meters away from the bear.

Inui eagerly awaited the data that would come out of this encounter. The bear let out a confused sounding "reeoooorrrwwwhhhh?" before getting attacked by Kaidoh, who pinned it to the ground. Inui was worried for a second, but his worry was replaced with data recording...feelings...when Kaidoh began to stroke the bear's stomach and hug it like it was a stuffed animal. He let out a content hiss as he settled in for the night.

Inui began to retrieve some of their belongings that had washed onshore, and was careful not to alert either the bear or Kaidoh. He wasn't really sure what had just happened, but the data he had collected from it was so off the hook that he couldn't...bEAR IT...HEH...


	16. Chapter 16 feat HYOTEI

Kirihara was beginning to get restless. Hyotei's ice castle was beginning to get tiring; Atobe spoke at length about his plans to attack Rikkai, loudly and in front of him, and for a while he was excited – after all, how stupid was the other to give away vital battle tactics like that? But he soon learned that Atobe was a blowhard who liked to just talk to hear the sound of his voice. The team's true tactician, Oshitari, was actually very tight lipped.

What surprised him most, though, was that the rest of Hyotei was actually… normal. Okay, so their redheaded acrobatics player was kind of annoying, but other than that most of them were almost decent. Kirihara spent most of his time around Choutarou and Shishido; Choutarou made him feel weirdly calm, and Shishido was clearly annoyed at his presence, but he seemed more annoyed at Atobe for letting him join them, so most of his anger was directed towards their captain.

"Choutarou, you're doping the Rikkai kid up on your power," Shishido warned, looking over to where they sat. Within distance of Choutarou's influence, Kirihara looked oddly at peace. He looked blissful.

"It's fine, Shishido-san," Choutarou said, fingering the silver cross that hung around his neck. "I can sense a lot of anger in him. It's good for him to be calm sometimes, don't you think?"

Shishido didn't answer. They were alone at Hyotei Gakuen- Atobe had went in search of that nutjob they'd captured and then let escape the other day, and the others had gone to scavenge for firewood and supplies.

"Well, whatever. I'm going to make dinner." Shishido stood, looking to his silvernette friend. "You hungry?"

Choutarou shook his head, and Shishido left. The room was quiet, and he Choutarou and Kirihara sat in silence until a small whimper broke it. He looked to the ex-Rikkai member, who had curled up in one of the faded velvet chairs. It was hard to believe that Kirihara Akaya had once been the terror of the wastelands – sitting with his knees tucked up close to his chest and his chin resting on them, he looked small, like a child. It took Choutarou a moment to realise he was asleep. His lips were forming a word, silently: "Yukimura…"

"Poor kid," Choutarou murmured. He could sense the other's undying loyalty to Rikkai, but he couldn't bring himself to rat the other out. He knew if Shishido found out that the other was a spy, he would be even LESS trustful of him, so he'd stay quiet for now. Besides, he doubted the other had had much of a choice in coming here – confusing as Rikkai was with their human captain, there was no doubt they loved their frail buchou. If Choutarou had had his way, everyone would hug and make up, but not everyone was as into peace (or hugs) as he was.

They were going to war. That was clear to Choutarou, just as it was clear to everyone else. No matter what they did, Rikkai was clearly out for revenge, and he couldn't blame them. After all, if someone killed Atobe-san, Hyoutei would… okay, that was a bad example. But if someone killed Shishido-san, he would be out for revenge, no matter what the pacifist side of him thought.

"Don't think so hard, your forehead is all creased up," Shishido said, wrapping Choutarou on the top of the head with his knuckles as he passed. He sat on the couch next to him, a steaming cup of instant noodles in his hand. He took a few mouthfuls, then said, "That Kirihara kid isn't really here to join our team, is he? He's a spy."

Choutarou floundered, but he couldn't lie to Shishido. "How did you know?"

"I think it's obvious. Atobe probably just hasn't realised because he's too busy chasing after that freak we caught the other day," he said, before imitating the deep voice of Tezuka. "'I'm from Seigaku, I came from space'," he mimicked, and Choutarou was surprised. It sounded so much like the guy! So Shishido was good at impressions on top of everything else. Shishido rolled his eyes, before saying, "Honestly, why'd he think we'd believe something like that? Does he think we're stupid?"

"Maybe… maybe he did come from space."

"You're too naïve."

"But maybe he did!" Choutarou protested. "I mean… I didn't sense anything strange from him. Usually if people are lying I notice – they get all nervous, and I can feel their hearts beating faster and pulse racing when they're worried about being caught, but that guy seemed perfectly calm. Maybe he was really telling the truth."

"That's ridiculous," Shishido shook his head. "Whoever heard of anyone coming from space?"

"Whoever heard of mutants?" He argued. He sighed, before saying, "I just think… the whole world has gone crazy. That guy claiming to be from space is crazy too, but how is it any more unbelievable than anything else that's happened to us? We're mutants, and he's an alien."

Shishido was quiet. Then he said, "I miss the way things used to be."

"Hm? You mean before we joined Hyoutei?"

"No," Shishido said, "Before then, even. I miss being _normal_."

"I think we all do."

"I can barely remember the way things used to be, but I know they must have been better than this," Shishido said. "Do you think things will ever get better? Or will we live like this until the day we die? Or we get killed, more likely."

"Shishido-san, don't talk like that!" Choutarou snapped, his voice uncharacteristically stern. "Things will get better! I believe the Earth can be rebuilt, and maybe… just maybe… that guy had something to do with it!"

Shishido stared at him. It had happened. Choutarou's optimism had finally turned into flat out insanity. He was about to say something, but suddenly Choutarou slumped to the side, his head resting against Shishido's shoulder. It took the older boy a moment to notice what was wrong; Choutarou was white as a sheet, his forehead covered in a cold sweat.

"Choutarou…!"

He snapped to face Kirihara when he heard a low grumble from the other. The Rikkai member's eyes were open now, and Shishido's skin crawled when he saw that the whites of them were stained blood red.

"Choutarou," Shishido said again, quietly this time, "Were you using all your energy keeping him calm?"

"I'm sorry, Shishido-san," Choutarou mumbled, "I just… didn't want Kirihara-kun… to get in trouble…"

"Idiot!" Shishido yelled. As he felt SHEER POWER roll off of the brooding Kirihara in waves he shoved the other against the couch, shielding him with his body, "Stay down!"

The force with with Kirihara exploded felt like a nuclear bomb going off. They were bathed in an intense heat and Kirihara rose from where he sat. Shishido looked up; save for the red eyes and maniacal grin, Kirihara looked more or less the same, but Shishido could swear that he could see a giant, demonic face looming behind the other. Was he dreaming, or was this the true power of devil mode? Was it really, literally unholy?

Kirihara took a step forward, and Shishido flinched, but fortunately it seemed they were not the target of Kirihara's rage. The other stepped passed them, the ice the castle was built of, so cold it hadn't melted in the five years it had stood, turning to water beneath him. The walls shuddered as Kirihara stamped out the room and down the corridor, and Shishido stood up, heaving Choutarou over his shoulder as he felt the very foundations the castle was built on trembling beneath them.

"Choutarou, we have to go!" He groaned, heaving the other off the couch. Damn, he was heavy- he panted as he half-carried him out of the crumbling castle; the skidded down the icy path that led to it and landed at the bottom. The sound of the castle shattering into pieces behind them rang in their ears as they looked back. The ice emperor's castle was in pieces, and Kirihara was nowhere in sight.

Shishido could foresee a HUGE fight with Atobe in the near future.

a/n: ohio minna-chans! ne shitteru? tomorrow, this fic will be a whole year old! that's crazy! i haven't updated it in a while, so this is kinda a lame place to come back to on the fics anniversary, huh? either way, i'm happy to be writing it, so thanks for reading! (´∀｀)


	17. Chapter 17

Kirihara came to his senses in the middle of the wasteland, missing his shirt and shoes. Devil mode usually left him out of it for a while, so he just wandered through the deserted, barren wastes where a city had once stood, trying to remember what had happened.

It was no use – he couldn't remember. Had he done something bad? Real bad? The last thing he could remember was talking to Choutarou, from Hyoutei, and then…

Kirihara liked Choutarou. He was easy to be around. He did not like Shishido as much, who was kind of annoying, but that didn't matter. Neither of them were bad people. So why were they with Hyoutei? He couldn't understand why they'd choose to follow someone like Atobe, who'd killed Yukimura and used Kirihara as a foot stool. Kirihara found himself getting angry again, but he clenched his hands into fists and tried to stay calm. Now wasn't the time to be mad- he had failed his mission, and he had to get back to Sanada, to let him know.

But he had no idea where he was.

He sat down on some rubble, and looked around. What had once stood here had been a city, but now most of the buildings had been left as empty shells, raided for anything valuable long ago, or they'd crumbled completely into piles of bricks and glass and splintered wood. Japan was a shadow of its former self – even the school's that the teams had formed from were falling apart. Rikkai Dai didn't even exist now, beyond the members of its tennis team.

After Yukimura had gotten ill, they'd spent their time going all over the region, looking for some cure, or someone better suited to help him. They'd never found one, though, even after all they'd done…

Kirihara felt a lump in his throat, and he stood up and kicked a rock, sending it flying. He didn't want to cry, so he'd rather get mad than be depressed- and his anger flared when someone said, "Whoa, are you alright?"

He looked up to see a boy in a white and blue uniform that he didn't recognise. He was carrying a small parcel wrapped in newspaper under his arm, and had a dumb, confused look on his face. It made Kirihara MAD! HE WAS GONNA EXPLODE!

His eyes flickered red and the other laughed, nervously. "Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, and he held the parcel out in front of him, coming to sit where Kirihara had been prior to his standing up and rock kicking. "There's no need to be angry," he said, unwrapping the newspaper. Kirihara's stomach growled as he saw food inside, fish and vegetables wrapped in rice. He couldn't remember seeing sushi in years – nobody put such thought into making meals any more.

"Are you hungry?" Mr Mysterious Sushi Chef said. "I was saving this for my team, but you look like you've not eaten in a while, so…"

Kirihara's eyes narrowed. Was the other trying to bribe him? Was he gonna ask him to do something as payback for the food once he'd finished eating? But he was right – he hadn't eaten in a few days, and he was starving. Sulking, Kirihara came to sit next to Kawamura, and picked up a piece of sushi, putting it in his mouth.

"It's good," he said. The sushi tasted as good as it looked.

"Thanks," Kawamura laughed. He seemed embarrassed by the compliment, but flattered. "It was my first time making it."

"No way," Kirihara said. He didn't believe it! He was the opposite of Naruto!

"Well, we didn't really have this kind of food where I came from," Kawamura said. On the good spaceship Seishun, they'd only had weird food that had come in tubes and occasionally cans. It had to last them for months and years at a time, after all – practicality came before tastiness. "An old man taught me how to make it."

"An old man…" Kirihara repeated with his mouth full, and then he gasped, his sushi almost falling out his mouth. "Not… Nanjiroh Echizen?!"

"He didn't say his name," Kawamura replied, "But he did ask about an Echizen on our team- his name is Nanjiroh Echizen?"

"Yeah," Kirihara said. He seemed to be getting more and more lively as he spoke. "He's one of the only adults still alive in this hell hole! He's a legend- people say he used to be a pro-tennis player, but he retired after his son was born- hey, the Echizen on your team, do you think they're related?"

"I don't know," Kawamura said. That would make an awful lot of sense, though – their ages matched up as father and son, and how else would Nanjiroh have known Ryoma was with them if he hadn't sent him there in the first place? He was a little jealous of Echizen. He couldn't remember his own parents, and here Ryoma had a father alive here on Earth.

Kawamura looked to Kirihara, who seemed to be lost in thought now. "What about you? Are you on your own?"

Kirihara seemed to tense at the question, and Kawamura was about to say it was alright, he didn't have to answer it, when he replied, "No."

Kirihara didn't say anything more for a while, but Kawamura sensed he was just getting ready to speak, so he stayed quiet.

"I mean, I don't have any relatives alive or anything," Kirihara said. "My dad died a little while after people started catching the disease, and my mom gave up on me after I began to mutate really badly. I don't know where she is now. Probably dead."

_Whoa… that's pretty frickin' heavy…_ Kawamura thought, but he stayed quiet.

"Are you a mutant?" Kirihara asked.

"Oh- uh, no," Kawamura said. He still wasn't sure what exactly being a mutant meant – Nanjiroh had alluded to it a little as they spoke, but hadn't said anything big, and Kawamura had been too polite to ask. Even so, when he'd saw the flash of anger in Kirihara's eyes earlier, he'd known that this boy was not normal. The red colour that his eyes had taken on, if only for a second, had been completely inhuman.

"You're lucky," Kirihara said, "You still have a chance of getting out of here, then."

"What do you mean?"

"The whole world isn't like this, you know," Kirihara said. That surprised Kawamura – it went against everything he'd been told. "People say there are other places that are still livable. Because they found out about the disease early, and actually took measures to set up quarantines and stuff – I think Renji said the largest all-human society is something like ten thousand people. He always said that if Yukimura could get to one of those quarantined places, maybe they'd be able to cure him."

"Yukimura?" Kawamura asked. He didn't know who Yukimura was. "I don't know who that is."

"Oh. It's our captain. He is… was human."

"Was?"

"He's dead now," Kirihara seemed to be getting angry again. "That bastard Atobe from Hyoutei killed him…!"

"How could someone do something like that?" Kawamura asked, sitting back and looking into the sky. It was a nice day. "Killing… is that something that happens a lot on Earth?"

"All the time," Kirihara muttered, "If you're weak, you die. That's just the way it is."

"Really?" Kawamura seemed alarmed. Scared, even. "In that case, I'm in danger…"

"Your jersey, though," Kirihara said pointedly. Kawamura was confused. What about his jersey? "And that bag on your back." What, the bag where he kept his racket? "You're a tennis player, aren't you?"

"Oh- yeah," Kawamura said. Then he laughed. "But it's kind of embarrassing – whenever I hold my racket, my personality changes completely-"

"That doesn't matter!" Kirihara said. "As long as you can play well, then you'll be okay!" He stood up from where he sat. The sushi had been finished, and the paper it was wrapped in had blown away in the wind. "If you can play, then you won't get in my way," Kirihara said. "So come on."

Kawamura looked confused. Go where?

"I'm looking for my team," Kirihara said, "And you're looking for yours. Come on."

Kawamura smiled, nodded, and followed him.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Now, you may have wondered where the heck that newspaper came from earlier. Who on earth is still publishing newspapers in this crazy, mutant-ridden world?

Inoue Mamoru. Inoue Mamoru did the thing.

His main informant was Nanjiroh, and even though he suspected the man was making up 90% of the things he was telling him, he went to him anyway because Nanjiroh was a MAJOR CUTIE. Or that's what he thought, at least. His assistant, Chiba Saori, thought that he was a major creep.

They put out the paper once a week. They didn't really have any subscribers, so they just kind of left bundles outside the old city hall. Sometimes some of them were gone when they checked back on them, but they didn't know if they had a reader base, or if some just blew away in the wind. It was hard to tell in this post-apocalyptic world.

Inoue covered sports (which usually just meant writing about what the local tennis teams were up to lately, which wasn't much). Chiba wrote the celebrity gossip column, and had her own informant in the form of a boy who called her to give her the scoop on Atobe Keigo, who also happened to sound a lot like Atobe Keigo. She also took pictures. Usually of the more handsome boys- she'd never let someone like Horio, Katsuo and Kachirou show their faces and conjoined body on her pages!

Lately, though, there had been things going on which meant they had a lot more to report on. Why, just now Inoue had even witnessed the melting of Hyoutei's ice castle! There had been mounting tension between Rikkai and Hyoutei lately, but the two teams rivalry was nothing new. Sanada and Atobe had never gotten along, but it had never escalated into something this big before.

"What a scoop," Inoue said as they walked back to the printing office, scribbling notes down in his reporter's notepad. "This week's issue is going to be our biggest yet, Chiba!"

Chiba sighed. As they approached the printing office, she saw someone standing outside it, and grabbed Inoue's arm, stopping him.

"Mr Inoue…" she said.

The boy did not have a tennis racket, so did not appear to be harmed, but they were best to be cautious. He was facing away from them, but as they drew closer, cautiously, he turned to face them.

He was beautiful. His features were delicate, but conveyed a sense of strength unlike anything Inoue or Chiba had ever seen before. His blue hair fell to his chin and shone in the sun, and that great cosmic fireball in the sky framed him like a halo. Him and him alone. How strange.

"Excuse me," he said, "I was wondering if I could speak to you."

Both Chiba and Inoue were silent. Because standing in front of him was Yukimura Seiichi. But Yukimura was dead – they'd even heard that from Rikkai themselves. So what was going on here? Was this some impostor, posing as Yukimura? But what could possibly be gained from that?

"I was wondering if you could give me some advice on the whereabouts of my team," Yukimura said. His tone was still soft and pleasant, but his expression seemed dark. "After all, you seem to know what goes on around here."

That was how they found themselves inside the printing office, drinking tea with the boy who called himself Yukimura. He did resemble the former captain, there was no denying that- but he resembled the Yukimura who had been around years ago, who had been healthy and strong. Before he'd died, Yukimura had been a shadow of his former self.

Chiba watched as """Yukimura""", if that WAS his real name, picked up the teacup and sipped from it. Wow, whether he really was Yukimura, he sure was a bishounen! Am I right, ladies?

"Chiba," Inoue said, leaning in so only she could hear. "If this is the real Yukimura, think of how big a scoop this'll be!"

Chiba seemed unsure. Inoue straightened up, and said, "Yukimura, we'd just love to interview you. Can you stay long?"

"Not long at all," Yukimura replied, simply. "I need to stop my vice-captain before he does something very stupid."


End file.
